Within the city of my body is set The throne of the mind—the judge— Which fears not God, And feels no shame before men. For it is free in these matters, Knowing neither fear nor dread, And it is unashamed because, like thought itself, It remains unseen by any. Here below, my soul has become a widow—bereft of You, Of You, its heavenly Spouse— For it has brought an alien seducer Into your bridal chamber! It cries out unceasingly, the heart burning within, To the mind—its conscience— Seeking justice against its adversary: The unjust body, its fellow citizen. It seeks to restore the lower to its rightful place below, And to subordinate the higher— Just as You, O Creator, ordained: That the body should be the servant of the soul. (…) O my heavenly Judge, By Whom both heaven and earth are judged— Through this judge that dwells within my soul— Vouchsafe that I be judged as is fitting, So that, on the Day of Judgment, I may not be condemned alongside this judge, When You shall bind together The soul and the body in an indissoluble bond. And as for me—who have become a widow, bereft of You— Deign to draw me to Yourself through Your love; Be once more the Spouse of my soul, Uniting me again to You, who are the Head. As for my adversary—this body that stands against me— Bring it under Your command, That it may hearken to Your word as a servant, And hasten, without delay, to perform what is good.