Original content

English translation

A camel was grazing in the desert and feeding on the thorns and brushwood of that wilderness. It came upon a thornbush, tangled like the tresses of the beautiful and fresh and lush like the faces of beloved ones. It stretched out the neck of greed to take a share of it, but saw that in the midst of it a viper had coiled itself, bringing its head together with its tail. It turned back and gave up its desire. The thornbush supposed that the camel's avoidance was because of the wound of its spear-like thorns and its shunning because of the sharpness of its tooth-like points. The camel perceived this and said: My fear is of the hidden guest, not of the visible host, and my dread is of the poison of the snake's tooth, not of the wound of the thorn's arrowhead. Were it not for terror of the guest, I would have made a single mouthful of the host. If the noble one fears the base, it is no wonder; it is the soul's wickedness he dreads, not its wool and bone. One who does not set foot in the midst of ashes is certain to fear the fire concealed within.