In the name of the Great Life, may the distant light be exalted!
A fisher am I, of the Great Life. A fisherman am I, of the Mighty Life.
A fisherman am I, of the Great Life. A messenger that Life has sent.
He said to me,
“Go, catch fish that do not eat filth, fish that neither eat horsebane nor smell hemlock. They will neither approach a ‘meal’ of unripe dates nor the ‘necklaces’ of marsh nets.”
The Life tied a cord for me, and built an indestructable vessel for me, a vessel whose radiant sail flutters and flaps, but is not pulled off. The ship is a seed, and it travels through the heart of the heavens. Its cables are radiant, and its rudder is one in which there is truth. Habšaba takes the punt pole, and Brhiia took the rudder. They travel with them to the dwellings, and divide the light with the Uthras. They set up thrones in them, and the streams of living water, having been drawn forth, now arrived. Upon the prow are placed lanterns, which are not extinguished by blowing winds.
All the vessels that see me bow down and worship me. They bow down, and worship me, and they come to me abasing themselves. On the prow stands the fisher, teaching subline doctrines. Near him are lanterns, the wicks of which do not move around in a commotion. There is no stench, he does not have anything deceitful, and he is clothed in white garments. He summons the fish of the sea and tells them,
“Be on your guard in the world! For my sake, guard yourself from the crafty birds that are upon you! If you take care for my sake, my brethren, I will undertake to be a helper for you, a helper and support from the place of darkness to the place of light.”
The Life speaks and is victorious, and victorious is the man who has gone there. The End.