St. John of the Cross
translation, Chris Hooton
On a dark night
With anxieties and love inflamed
Oh happy chance!
I went out unobserved
My house being now at rest
Into the dark, secure
By the secret ladder, disguised
Oh happy chance!
Into the dark, vieled
My house being now at rest
In the happy night
In secret, in which no one could see me,
Nor did I see a thing
With no other light or guide
Aside from that which in the heart burns
There I was guided
More certain than in the light of midday
To where was waiting
The one who knows me best
In the place where no one perceives
Oh guiding night!
Oh night kinder than the dawn!
Oh night that unites my lover with his beloved
The beloved in her lover transformed.
On my blossomed breast
Which entirely only for himself he kept
There he stayed sleeping
And I him caressed
And the air gave up
the breeze of the cedars
The air over the ramparts
As I ran my fingers through his locks
With his peaceful hand
My neck he wounded
And all of my senses he suspended.
I stayed myself, and forgot myself
My face I reclined on my lover
Everything ceased, and I let go myself
Leaving my cares among the lilies
Forgotten.
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