1. There is not an atom's weight of choice in my action;
Every action comes from the Creator of choice.

2. If we were to entrust our souls and what they desire,
Our choice would be futility and loss.

3. God's choice for me is the most righteous and protective;
To claim my own choice is my ruin.

4. If you could see the wisdom of God in what
Destiny ordains through the ages,

5. And contemplate His kindness in decrees
That manifest in forms of harm,

6. You would sense, without veil, a most radiant beauty
Revealed in aspects of effects.

7. There is no atom of impossibility;
Where is managing the brand of need?

8. How can the managing of innate disposition walk
If it opposes decided destiny?

9. Do you see me decide when the matter is already
Decided as He willed, contrary to my choice?

10. Or do you see me having power that establishes a judgment
While in His knowledge it is impossible to settle?

11. Or do you see me putting forward what His delaying
Of His judgment from the times has required?

12. Or do you see me, if I dislike a tribulation
He has willed for me, diverting it by my choice?

13. Or do you see for existence an atom that stirs -
And does existence have a measure?

14. If you verify it has forms and effects,
Then what have forms and effects?

15. Or if you ascertain it is perishing and vanishing,
I have erased from you the darkness of delusions.

16. Or if you depict it as strong and upright,
It is mirage in the storms of deceits.

17. Whoever saw the nonexistent saw nothing but Him
In categories of bringing into being and originating.

18. Leave Him to pelt me with afflictions - for how nearby
Are His compassions from the position of distress!

19. Leave my Beloved to lead me with His afflictions -
For His knowledge is not straitened by my brokenness.

20. Leave my Beloved to disguise love with harshness
And conceal sincerity in troubles.

21. His knowledge precedes and His ordainments run their course,
His favors are my necklaces and bracelets.

22. To where, then, my inclination to object?
To where, then, my impulse to flee?