The wisdom of some writers
Does not go beyond the instant
Of making a compliment in public
And writing minutes,
Wearying their spirits out
In what is trivial and mean.

But, at the same time,
They wish to unlock the secret
Of wordsmithing with its milestones
Known as the achievement
Of Foresight versus Corporeality
Of all things in the Grand Unity.

In this way they go all astray
In regard to the mysteries of times;
The fetters of embodied matters
Keep them from the knowledge
Of the Grand Incipience.

On the other part, the true wordsmiths
Direct the energy of their spirits
To what was before the Beginning,
And find pleasure in the mysteries
Belonging to the realm prior Genesis.

The true poets are like the water
Which flows on and on without
The obstruction of embodied matter,
And expands into Superior Insight.
For what the other mеn of letters do?
They occupy themselves with things
Trivial as a hair in the Indian summer
And remain ignorant of Tranquillity.