What contract
binds my desire
to righteousness?

Oh, that righteousness must be oblivious to such fiction,
for Love is not calculated,
and no mortal could account its worth
being limited in time.
Therefor, should I languish to attain such love?
Or is even suffering necessary?
Let it be subtracted from life, and then see.

To release the unwholesome,
the unwholesome,
which has a life of its own
and flutters like a nightbird...
It is so limber,
It should exceed my grasp.
Or else, let it be some cloud that casts a shadow on the ground. Who would service thee in such a way?

So simple, to walk to heaven.