My son, you’ve seen the temporary fireand the eternal fire; you have reachedthe place past which my powers cannot see.I’ve brought you here through intellect and art;from now on, let your pleasure be your guide;you’re past the steep and past the narrow paths.Look at the sun that shines upon your brow; look at the grasses, flowers, and the shrubsborn here, spontaneously, of the earth.Among them, you can rest or walk until the coming of the glad and lovely eyes–those eyes that weeping, sent me to your side.Await no further word or sign from me:your will is free, erect, and whole– to actagainst that will would be to err: thereforeI crown and miter you over yourself



