The chapter of escaping from the catchers of fish.

O ye snarers, O ye fowlers, O ye fishers, sons of your fathers, know ye what I do know, the name of this very great net: the embracer is its name.

Know ye what I do know, the name of its cordage.

Know ye what I do know, the name of its stake.

Know ye what I do know, the name of the fork.

Know ye what I do know, the name of its point.

Know ye what I do know, the name of its blade.

Know ye what I do know, the name of its weight: the iron which is in the sky.

Know ye what I do know, the name of its flowers: the feathers of the hawk.

Know ye what I do know, the name of the ground, where are its limits.

I am the servant who proceeds from the primeval waters, and my soul is of God. I produce food, but I execrate what is wrong.

I subsist by means of truth every day.

I am feared by those around me.

I come to heaven, I take hold of my place in the East.

The children of the great God nourish him to whom they have given birth, with sacred offerings.