that the matter you had wrapped in riddles was the word “ʿilm” (knowledge), although as yet it had not turned conjecture into certainty. Yet he went on adorning it with the very embellishments you had set upon it (1) and diving deep into its markings, until Truth gleamed forth from its darkness (2) on a night before the hour of sleep. Thus what had first crossed my mind proved true, its dawn breaking clear with its rising.

I saw within it the description—at times openly displayed, at times hidden—its meaning audible to the attentive ear, thanks to the subtlety of its intent, the delicacy of the hint it contained (3), and the lofty ornament that set it far above the commonplace. So I set out to unveil it in brief, pointing the way to the heart of its open plain. Listen, then, to the unfastening of its adornments in detail, and bear witness with a heart that turns toward it in humble receptiveness.

The word “ʿilm” is made up of three letters, and each spelled-out letter likewise consists of three; hence it is composed, at root, of nine—observe, then, its squaring. When squared, its numerical root equals itself; when cast as a triangle, its borders and sides accord with it. It may also be taken by thirds: an equal third is its lām, once you venture into its apportionment. As for the mīm, in the major jummal reckoning its value is forty, according to the scholars of Rabīʿah; and the mīm (4) in the minor jummal reckoning stands at twenty—making this third twice the total.

The third—the ʿayn, the very eye of each component—is substance itself, while the predicate inheres in its subject. For entities subsist through substances, while accidents, taken together, reside in them; so attend carefully to their composites.