How pure you have become, O one who bathes in the river of reverent awe.

O mother, only when one becomes pure does love attach itself; otherwise the destination remains far away.

When reverent fear arises, He becomes compassionate, and the path toward the palace is then found.

He says, “I am nothing but love,” yet He also speaks of fear.

He says, “I am not obtained by price,” yet He still asks for a price.

He does not look at faults; instead, He keeps taking one by the arm and seating them close.

O beloved, upon your face I saw His signatures.