I didn’t know yet, my Lord, that you exist, you who made me from clay and gave me all these goods. I didn’t know yet, that you yourself was my un-proud God and Lord. Because I had not received yet the grace to hear your voice in order to know you; you had not yet come and said mystically to me that ‘I am’. I was unworthy and unclean, still having the ears of my soul obstructed by the clay of sin, and my eyes under the command of disbelief and of the sense and fog of the passions. And I was seeing thus you my God, but without knowing, not having first believed that God, as much as possible being seen, he is being seen by some, I could not discern that God or God’s glory is this, which, sometimes thus, sometimes otherwise, is revealed, but the miracle being unusual astonished me and filled the whole of my soul and of my heart with joy, so that I was seeing even my very body partake of that ineffable grace. But I didn’t know yet clearly who you are, whom I was seeing.