I have found my thirsting, and it has discovered me,
Songs of drought are gathering together in a symphony
Stretching forth limitless and without restraint.
And I have built so many walls that have been ruined
Four of which have housed my lament and are like a dew in
Touch with the sun, worthless and quickly evaporated in sorrow.
O, that I had eyes again that I might find comfort in seeing
O, that I had ears again so that I might be found listening,
O, where is the bed of my comfort? asks the body.
Only in Him does your desert find its water,
Only in Him do your bastard senses find a father,
He is teaching you how to need, replies the soul
And if you have been blinded, it was by the hand of goodness
So that in your desire, you would avoid the tempting darkness
That so threatens the devout soul.
To this the Lord said that he would lead the blind
By paths unknown, and certainly not to the self-reliant mind
Can be taught the paths of salvation,
Like a patient lies asleep and dumb to the knife
Amidst the cutting and the mending of the physical life,
So the great physician works in the night.
O, sweet disguise of the most blessed flame,
O, heavenly fire that destroys all shame,
Before you the bashful soul learns to be naked
For yours is an Eden which is a foreigner to sin,
And yours is a source through which I must begin
To depend totally on the other
My sister, my brother.