SONNETS TO THE PLATONIC MADONNA

By Torsten Schwanke


"Never enough of Mary!"


dedicated to Tom




I


Whom shall I sing but Our Lady?

Shall I sing the dear holy soul?

I cry in the night my tears,

Tears spring from my eyes!


But in the morning I sing hallelujah

And pray for the holy soul faithfully.

Mary's mother I greet, Saint Anne,

In whom I have rejoiced for a long time.


Saint Anne, lead my holy soul

Soon into the bosom of the Rosa Mystica,

That she may not be tormented in purgatory,

Where I saw her with her hot breasts.


I consecrate the dead to thee, spotless one,

You alone are the thornless rose.



II


You alone are the thornless rose,

I serve thee, Mary, with humility.

Like drops of dew in the dark green moss,

So I weep my tears full of melancholy.


The girlfriend was so proud of her breasts,

Was conceited about her bosom.

Now she atones for her unrestrained lust,

Well, the heavenly Muse bears me witness,


In purgatory her breasts burn,

But with hallelujah and hosanna

I cool her and give her heavenly lust,

I also consecrate her to the Great Mother Anne.


In purgatory cool the beloved woman,

In summer's heat, refreshing as dew.



III


In summer heat, refreshing as dew

Comes Mary's mother's blessing to me.

I suffer melancholy, Our Lady,

I am in purgatory already on earth!


On earth under the cross, depressed,

Both souls in my breast torment!

The abyss, O sublime Woman, is deep,

In my bosom both souls suffer!


In paradise, however, only pleasure and delight

Fills the two souls of my breast!

There I behold in the dress of sunlight

The Mistress of bliss and delight!


Than blissfully we love in symbiosis,

You are the maiden, you are the flawless one.



IV


You are the maiden, you are the flawless one,

You are as pure as transparent jade,

You white lily and you golden rose,

Thou hast asked for me the great mercy,


On earth in purgatory

To empty my cup of wormwood

And thus the gospel of suffering

To live in the depressive gloom.


So I am weary of my life

And desire to be in paradise!

But my tears are not superfluous,

The torment of my soul must still purgate me.


Than I see you - I die full of life -

O beautiful girl in the city of heaven!



V


O beautiful girl in the city of heaven,

O beautiful mother in the garden of heaven!

I was filled with your kindness,

Roses of all kinds blossomed around thee.


I see thee in thy gentle mildness,

In thy grace and in thy goodness.

I see God's grace in your image,

Thou spotless chaste maiden blossom.


In the morning Hallelujah, Hosanna

I sang before the Saviour's flesh.

In the evening I saw Susanna sitting

In her garden, a chaste wife.


In the garden glowed colourful lampions.

I saw on your head your crown.



VI


I see on your head your crown,

I see the wreath of flowers in your hair.

A young girl you are without a blemish,

So bright, so full of life, so wonderful.


I see you dancing in the green garden,

Surrounded by black and golden honeybees.

From your feet the plants sprout,

The evening stars shine in your praise.


I see you smiling and I hear you laughing

And hear you talk: My dear darling!

You kiss me to kindle my love,

You show me close to you the heavenly home.


You are so young! Light as a petal!

I am already old and dull and full of life.



VII


I am already old and weary and full of life,

I read like a priest Martin Luther,

But you are a fresh petal

And an eternally youthful mother.


In your garden I am the sunflower

And turn to thee, O sun of grace.

I kneel full of grace in the sanctuary

And kneel before thee, high-walking Madonna.


I lay roses on your table

And veils for thy grace's veneration.

A little boy brings us bread and fish

And Jesus transforms the bread for us.


O Majesty with thy Son of God,

I kneel before your godlike throne.



VIII


I kneel before your godlike throne,

I only want to drink your embers of love,

I will but eat the flesh of thy Son

And drink thy blood as the blood of the Son.


O face of feminine purity!

How your cheeks glow, my beauty!

Love wants union, wants unity,

That is love's languishing moan.


You are the beautiful queen of love,

God delights in your feminin grace!

I consecrate myself to you from the depths of my soul

And eternally I will rest at your breasts!


Mary only is eternal youth.

Of Aphrodite the ancients fabled.



IX


Of Aphrodite the ancients fabled,

The Venus Simonetta is very beautiful,

How wildly her fiery red curls flowed,

I can only see it with moans of pleasure!


The slender woman stands as on a shell,

The graceful, the beautiful, the slender,

How lily-white, how ivory the body,

The curls what a lascivious flirt!


How chastely she covers her dove breasts,

With her hand she hides her sex.

O epitome of the mad lust of love!

O Venus, if I were your bridegroom!


No! That I might remain faithful to the Great Mother:

Mary is the Mother of Fair Llove.



X


Mary is the Mother of Fair Love,

Yes, pregnant she is, Morenita,

I consecrate myself with every soul

To the rose of Mexico, Indianita.


Your silky black hair, like varnish,

Frames the mildest of faces.

I have a heavenly taste,

You are the Muse and I am your poet.


The brows and the eyes and the lids,

The nose, the mysterious mouth!

I sing you a thousand flowers and love songs

And love you from the depths of my heart!


I revel in the loveliest of shapes.

How your starry mantle falls beautifully in folds!



XI


How your starry mantle falls beautifully in folds,

Sublime Majesty of all the universe!

I see the many earthly figures

And see the women and the maidens all.


The beauty of the woman is long gone,

Withered is the rose of her beauty.

How did the beauty of the woman once shine!

How I have missed her love's grace!


The girls go about in the charm of youth

And all their charms blaze gloriously!

But, I see, they lack virtue,

Twenty more years and they'll be old!


Mary always remains the beautiful love.

You bless all my life's impulses with a smile.



XII


You bless all my life's impulses with a smile,

You are always pleasing to my eyes,

You are the young queen of love,

Thou golden temple of Jerusalem.


I wind thee a thousand wreaths of roses

And forge thee ten thousand crowns of gold.

And all my verses, all the dances

Of the girls praise thee and all the zones.


The girls can dance full of charms,

The girlish grace can beguile me very much,

How they spread their arms and legs

And sing of love beautifully in choruses!


O joy, to live like this with God's girl!

O happiness, to float with you in the kingdom of heaven!



XIII


O happiness, to float with you in the kingdom of heaven!

On earth your bridegroom grieves greatly.

O delight, the blood of the vine intoxicates me!

O sorrow, yet grief assails me.


The joy of the spirit on the summit of the soul

Is more than natural joy,

O, if I could touch the top of your head,

I would no longer bleed from all this grief.


And my bride weeps tears red as blood,

So diabolical rage is in the world of the heathen,

That God's Maid of joy, full of ardour

Must suffer seven swords in her heart!


Mary, you alone can give me joy,

You are my hope, my sweetness and my life.



XIV


You are my hope, my sweetness and life,

As the Daughter of God you wear your wreath,

Daughter of Zion, I see you floating,

Daughter of God, wisdom you dance.


As God's Mother I see you smiling,

You the hidden one, the Magna Mater,

In the heat of the sun I want to fan you,

Want to sing to thee kneeling in the sacred theatre.


Bride of the Spirit, you wear the diadem

Of the universe over thy veil,

Thou art the heavenly Jerusalem

The virgin bride on God's wedding feast!


So exquisite in my drunken vision!

Whom shall I sing but Our Lady?



XV


Whom shall I sing but Our Lady?

You alone are the thornless rose.

In summer's glow refreshing as the dew,

Thou art the maiden, thou art the spotless.


O fair maiden in the city of heaven,

I see on thy head thy crown.

I am already old and weary and full of life,

I kneel before thy godlike throne.


Of Aphrodite the ancients fabled,

Mary is the Mother of Fair Love.

How your starry mantle falls beautifully in folds,

You bless all my life's impulses with a smile.


O happiness, to float with you in the kingdom of heaven,

You are my hope, my sweetness and my life.



XVI


You are my hope, my sweetness and my life,

To you I pour out my whole soul.

I will tell you a fable

Of a woman who was in the house of God,


She, who sold lingerie elsewhere,

Was a smoker, who smoked masses of tobacco,

And when the priest baptised a boy,

The woman also needed her cigarette,


She smoked the tobacco in the church.

That's what I wanted to tell you, the story,

Which is entirely to my own taste

And that's why I wrote you this sonnet.


O my hope that soon I shall depart,

You are my comfort when I suffer on earth.



XVII


You are my comfort when I suffer on earth,

I am lowly esteemed in the world,

The Mother and the Son - I love them both,

I have often rejoiced in the little boy.


These are the sacrifices the Lord sends us,

When we are in low esteem on earth,

When pride looks proudly on our humility,

When fools are puffed up here on earth.


Then I offer to you my tears, my lady,

Bloody tears I must weep in my heart,

Because the fool and his mother-fool

Kissed me with a true Judas kiss.


I weep with sorrow in my life,

When my soul must quiver with melancholy.



XVIII


When my soul must quiver with melancholy,

I think of David and Jonathan.

You were my friend, my Jonathan, my life,

What love you did to me!


It was sweeter than proud woman's love

The covenant of friends' souls in the Lord!

Women stir up the impulses of love,

A friend is loved in the peace of soul.


How I have loved you, my darling,

That was quite different from women's mockery.

How sweet you were, you loving boy,

Yes, like a sacrament from God!


Mary, when I suffer through the boys,

Then I long for thee, thou delight of my eyes!



XIX


Then I long for thee, thou delight of my eyes,

When Solomon is blasphemed by fools.

O Wisdom, how I suffer in the world

And can only wait for your return.


The goddess Wisdom fled back to heaven,

There she waits for me at the goal of faith.

But the fools in the world's throng

Bet the future on a pack of cards.


Wisdom, who is spurned, she flees,

Crowned goddess, but she will scorn

The lad who does not see the queen

And does not open his ear to the beautiful one.


I dream of Wisdom when the sun laughs

And when I lie in the dark night.



XX


And when I lie in the dark night

And when I cry tears red as blood,

When the world gives me such pain

And murders me with its fierce rage,


Then you close your eyes, Mother of God,

You see your Son has suffered so much,

Suffered the bitterness of scorn,

Thy Son, O Woman, is full of suffering.


Then wash his wounds with wine

And anoint his hair with anointing oil

And dry the black blood of his torment

And comfort his deeply grieved soul.


And when the blood cries in my veins,

Into thy bosom I pour my tears.



XXI


Into thy bosom I pour my tears

And cry out all my misery before you.

Poisoned is the blood in my veins,

The soul's house of God is shattered.


The beautiful women all who hate me,

And who loved me, all the little boys,

All of them have left me,

All have left me alone.


But you stay with me, O Lady,

You stay with your Joseph, God's girl.

To the left of my Lord's altar I look

The strong woman at her spinning wheel.


And when I have wept through the night,

In the morning I woke up sad.



XXII


In the morning I woke up sad,

In the evening I sadly fell asleep.

My ship of life with all its splendour

Failed to enter the harbour.


Mary, it grieves me to be alive,

So bitter gnaws it at my heart.

The dead now float in God's heaven

And kiss Jesus with the kiss of love.


It died in my girlfriend an Eden,

The other girlfriend also leaves me yet.

With whom shall I speak of Jesus Christ?

Shall I celebrate the wedding feast alone?


Mary, my tears praise thee,

To thee cries all my blood in my veins.



XXIII


To you cries all my blood in my veins

And you hear me on thy throne of heaven,

Despised and rejected, I weep tears,

Then cometh Solomon to me in the morning.


Solomon speaks, We rejoice

In thy verses as pure as jade,

We delight in thy verses building,

Give thanks to God, for it is God's grace.


I pray, mother, I am but a boy

And love honey for my palate,

I put my hand in the honeycomb barrel

And lick the honeycomb from my thumb.


So sweet is Wisdom from eternity,

Thou comforter with thy sweetness.



XXIV


Thou comforter with your sweetness,

Thou Eucharistic mistress,

Thou givest the angel's bread of heavenliness

And new love comes in me.


And Adam was once wedded to Eve

And man and wife love each other in the children,

So thou hast steeled my new courage

With new strength of love of overcomers.


I am the rock wall for the world,

I am the mouth of the most high Lord.

So shines for me in the morning on the firmament

Beautiful love's star, the morning star.


I praise God with my groans of praise,

God's tenderness with his beauty.



XXV


God's tenderness with his beauty,

Thou givest the tenderness of the boy Jesus,

Though the woman often bitterly scorns me,

My baby Jesus and I have much joy.


And when the boys ask for heaven,

Then the one wants much sweetness,

The other wants in the eternal throng

His toys to his soul's bliss.


But I am blessed already here on earth

And have from the Lord the fullness of life.

How blessed I shall be than in heaven,

When God transfigures my spirit and body!


Mary, saviour from sorrow,

You have freed my heart so often!



XXVI


You have freed my heart so often,

You have often freed me from deep sorrow.

A foretaste of sweet eternity

Here on earth is already the shower of delight.


You know, Madonna, the goal of my longing,

What gifts of love I ask of thee.

On earth I love children's play very much,

Nothing is so sweet as dear little boys.


Yes, God himself has become a child,

Not the fear of God the Father‘s wrath,

No, loving as little children are,

He wants love, the God of immanence.


To you I give thanks for all graces, my beautiful one,

As a song of thanks I consecrate my sounds to thee.



XXVII


As a song of thanks I consecrate my sounds to thee,

Because I have seen your grace,

I have beheld thy beauty, my fair one,

When the boy invited me in his chamber.


Then I saw you before me on narrow paths,

A girl about sixteen years young,

Thy loveliness was to me an angel,

A greeting of the spirit with enthusiasm.


How beautiful love is with young charms,

How beautiful, like a flawless jade,

After bearing my crosses patiently and faithfully.

From heaven comes youthful grace.


Ecclesia is young. And verily, lo,

To me God comes like a young woman!



XXIII


To me God comes like a young woman,

Though God be a young father full of love,

I trust God more as my mother,

My deepest instinct tells me so.


I feel a spiritual kinship with Goethe,

Who saw the divinity as female-youthful.

In the same way I blow my flute of joy,

The Godhead is a virgin to me, I say.


The Hagia Sophia, God‘s Nature,

Revealed in three persons,

The Father and the Son and Spirit is but

The One Virgin of the Godhead.


This you have taught me, O dear Lady,

I often behold thee in visionary sight.



XXIX


I often see you in visionary sight,

Thou maiden goddess, young dawn,

Thou art the transparent light woman

Whom Goethe has always transfigured and glorified.


I ride through the town on my bicycle

And celebrate resurrection after the cross,

Then I see God's girl on the road,

The goddess full of grace and charm.


My paradise? The holy virgins,

Who dance there like heavenly ideas

In the heavenly palace of Our Lady

In the risen spiritual bodies.


And above all I see you floating beautifully,

You are my hope, my sweetness and my life.



XXX


You are my hope, my sweetness and my life,

You are my comfort when I suffer on earth,

When my soul must quiver with melancholy,

Then I long for thee, thou delight of my eyes.


And when I lie in the dark night,

I pour my tears into your bosom,

In the morning I wake up sad,

To thee cries all my blood in my veins.


You comforter with your sweetness,

God's tenderness with his beauty,

You have freed my heart so often,

As a song of thanks I consecrate my sounds to thee.


God comes to me like a young woman.

I often behold thee in visionary sight.



XXXI


I often see you in visionary sight,

A maiden angel is my comfort on earth.

What is as beautiful as a young woman?

The ideals never grow old.


Dame World is spiritless and but cold,

As it was before the time of the Flood,

Dame World has long withered and is already old,

Dame World has silver already in her black hair.


But Madonna like the milk,

Sweetened with sweet honey germ.

Have mercy, O queen, have mercy,

And often bring to me the little Christ!


I am comforted by the dawn

And when I think of dark death.



XXXII


And when I think of dark death,

Then Mary comes smiling to me,

When I have shed my red blood,

The Wisdom of God gives her blessing.


The great Hagia Sophia comes

And takes me into her Trinity,

Because my quiet life of faith pleases her,

Devotion to love and prayer.


He who prays is surely already saved,

He who does not pray is surely already damned.

O, until I lay myself in eternity,

My life of faith burns in love‘s flames.


I think of the serene eternities,

Death seems to me like a beautiful woman.



XXXIII


Death seems to me like a beautiful woman,

Death seems to me a dear sister,

She comes and she embraces me tenderly,

Holding me tightly in her bosom.


Sister Death comes from the kingdom of heaven,

She shall never find with me mortal sin.

She is a woman so willing, warm and soft,

I will always bind myself to her grace.


Sister Death leads me into the tent

Of eternity in the garden paradise,

She loves me there in God's new world,

Her smile is charming and honeyed,


Her cloak is sky-blue, her womb is bread,

Her skirt is red like the red rose.



XXXIV


Her skirt is red like the red rose,

Her body is built up of God's flesh,

Her spiritual body is like angel's bread,

In heaven she is chaste as an angel.


Mary, queen of the dear angels,

My angel is like a young sister,

Yes, a woman of light and without blemish,

She grasps the sword tight with her right hand.


The hundred and forty-four thousand covers

The Spirit-Mother Eternity gladly,

Who stains not herself with wicked women,

Who is spotless, true and virginal.


I dream how eternity laughs at me,

When heavy I suffer in the dark night.



XXXV


When heavy I suffer in the dark night,

Then come scribes with gifts,

A fat meat is offered to me there

And plenty of the sweetest drinks.


The scribes say, Live gladly!

You need no longer to mourn, no longer to weep!

Today is a feast day of the Most High Lord,

So carry to Athens the owls of Wisdom.


For the little boys who pine for sweet things,

You boil them honeyed milk in the pot.

If sadness again shall overtake thee,

Take thy medicine for thy brain.


Woman, when the eyes are full of tears,

You bring to me your child in your arms.



XXXVI


You bring to me your child in your arms,

Then comes to me the sweet joy of life.

I will be blissful as children are

And am no longer conscious of misery.


But unhappiness is deep in my soul,

It is as if a worm gnaws at my heart.

When I am alone, how then I torment myself,

How thunder and lightning and tempest terrify me.


When I am alone, I think of death

And do not rejoice in life's gifts,

But when I play, all misery disappears,

Then I laugh with my wild boy.


How terrible the power of death,

Your child laughs like the eternity of life.



XXXVII


Your child laughs like the eternity of life,

Mary, tell me if your little Jesus

Who thought ever of sweetness

And wanted only sweet figs


And wanted nuts from the larder

And wanted honey in the milk.

Mary, Jesus' kisses are sweet as sugar,

How happy he was in your home!


Mary, did Jesus always want to nibble

And secretly enjoy a sweet?

Mary, did Joseph love the bottles very much

And did he like to let the blood of the grapes flow?


You are, Mary, with the child Jesus

Like gardens where souls are blessed.



XXXVIII


Like gardens where souls are blessed,

So is the heavenly city in paradise.

When God's spirit and wind carry me there,

Then Madonna waits there sweet as sugar.


Grandmother, my angel, waits there,

My girlfriend too, my sisterly angel.

O what a love reigns in God's place,

There is motherly love without blemish.


As long as I am to go on pilgrimage on this earth,

The angels accompany me all my ways,

Till I grow weary of life,

Surrender to God and lie down in the grave.


Madonna gives me strength and the courage to die,

When I want to spill my black blood.



XXXIX


When I want to spill my black blood,

God will motherly dry my tears.

And when I die in the highest courage of death,

In death I reaffirm the dogmas of the Church,


Then the Mother of God will come down to me

And leads me before the judgement seat of the Lord.

Madonna, to whom I sang all my songs,

Is my advocate and my morning star.


I hope, that Jesus as a little boy,

As Love will judge according to the measure of love,

The boy Jesus, whom I have loved,

He was sweetness to me in all my gloom,


When God in the last pain of my life

Death's knife pierce in my heart.



XL


Death's knife pierce my heart,

God comes in my last hour of life,

Then I consecrate to him my cross and my pain,

Then I consecrate to him my cross and my wound.


Hope is a beautiful girl,

She speaks of God in the deepest delusion of God,

In mania she sees the heavenly city,

Where God's providence would take me.


The girl Hope in the madness smiles

And points to the Mother of God in heaven,

With a fan to fan my heat comes

The girl Hope in the tumult of the world.


In the girl Hope full of the heat of love

You give me again new courage to live.



XLI


You give me again new courage to live,

I rejoice in heaven on earth,

For through Christ's blood the dead

Walks on earth like angels of heaven.


O Mother of God of Vladimir,

You have led my girlfriend to heaven,

Now she is at peace in God's rest

And she accompanies me in the bustle of the world.


My sisterly angel laughingly blesses

The son she left on this earth.

You greet me, O Notre Dame, kindling my heart

And make the earth a paradise for me.


You give me, O Mary, a new heart

And the joy of love after the pain of love.



XLII


And the joy of love after the pain of love

And the joy of life after the sorrows of death

And after the sorrow for the soul now cheerful jesting

And new courage after miserable despair,


So, like the tide and the ebb, goes the sea for me,

I rejoice in the heavens beautifully in love,

Then comes the gloomy host of woe

And again I am saddened to death!


But the boy Jesus laughing jests

With him who was drowned in sorrow,

The boy Jesus caresses him and sweetens his heart

And pours into his soul showers of delight.


I thank you, O Jesus, I give my life to you,

I will give my life to my Lord and God.



XLIII


I want to give my life to my Lord and God,

Even today on the Sea of Galilee

I see the waters tremble beneath Jesus,

He lay in the boat as in a bed.


The Creator of all elements,

Who with one word builds the universe,

He was followed on the water by the ducks,

Who trusted in their God.


Madonna's blessing brings all things to pass,

That I may know, the Lord is a child,

I cultivate my boyish love of Jesus

And call David's son the Lord of David.


Madonna, my girlfriend's blessed life,

I see you smiling, floating on the cloud.



XLIV


I see you smiling, floating on the cloud,

Queen of peace and reconciliation,

Now is blissful already my earthly life,

In spite of all occult mockery.


How ungodly the occultists‘ curse,

Selling their souls to demons.

How blissful already on earth are the Christians,

Who eat manna in the desert.


Mary, all your good gifts

Feed my spirit with bliss,

With Joseph you walk and with the boy

Through the desert of the world to eternity.


O Gospa, you are the most beautiful woman!

I often see you in a visionary vision.



XLV


I often see you in a visionary vision,

And when I think of the dark death,

Death seems to me like a beautiful woman,

Her skirt is red like the red rose.


When heavy I suffer in the dark night,

You bring to me your child in your arms,

Your child like eternity of life laughs,

Like gardens where souls are blissful.


When I want to spill my black blood,

Death's knife pierce my heart,

You give me again new courage to live

And love's joy after love's pain.


I want to give my life to my Lord and God:

I see you smiling, floating on the cloud.



XLVI


I see you smiling, floating on the cloud,

When golden boys call, Hallelujah,

Son of David, Hosanna, our life,

Who feeds even the smallest with manna.


The youths who loiter in corners,

The poor girls who sell the womb,

The little children of Africa who starve,

Let Jesus baptise them all with love.


Whether boy or girl, all praise

The Lord, the Creator of the universe,

They often look up, smiling with happiness,

To see if their angel is circling above them.


With boyish joy full of love's ardour

You beckon me new courage to live.



XLVII


You beckon me new courage to live

When you bless me in wild dreams,

Where I'm blessed with love's ardour

And see the beloved in inner rooms.


In the day and in the world I love her not,

The bitter, wicked woman is loathsome to me,

But in dreams her fair face

Is my life's delight very pleasing.


I do not know my own soul,

I know not whether I love or hate.

Love's light is darkened by day,

In dreams at night I grasp it passionately.


O woman, whatever day and night give,

In your presence I live my life.



XLVIII


In your presence I live my life,

There comes to me the glory of the Lord,

There I can float blissfully in the ether,

From the morning star to the evening star.


The glory of the Lord is like a garden,

The mother smiles and the boy plays,

I play with the boy, with the tender one,

The mother tenderly feels my love.


But so vex me the Satanists,

Who want to walk on my back.

So at the same time the lukewarm Christians vex me,

Jesus alone can make me happy.


O Mother of God, you give new courage

With new vitality and new ardour.



XLIX


With new vitality and new ardour

I blissfully drunk see the evening star.

With new soul in refreshed blood

I feel good as the Lord's fool.


So exceedingly sensible are the men

And all too worldly-wise are the strong women,

I don't want them, the great all-rounders

And hard strumpets, here in life behold.


True Wisdom is to be a fool,

God guides the wise and the foolish too,

I alone will be a fool in Christ.

And God's Wisdom breathe my breath.


O Wisdom, I will feel thee on earth,

Thou wilt guide me good paths of life.



L


Thou wilt lead me good paths of life,

Thou wilt often show me the boy Jesus,

I will feel your great love

And your loving gifts of grace.


I play games with the boy Jesus,

The boy Jesus bids me good night.

The foolish know nothing of the goal of faith,

They seek this earth's vain splendour.


Mary, your silver icon

Is my refuge from godlessness,

The Great Mother with the Son of God

On earth lets me taste eternity.


At night I fall asleep old and full of life.

You finally lead me to the garden city.



LI


You finally lead me to the garden city

And in the garden city I am alone

And not alone, I live full of life

Together with the dear little Jesus.


O Jesus, do you remember how on the water

You walked, I walked with you?

Far, far from me are all the evil haters,

Who blaspheme me over wine and beer.


I see no more of the communists,

I no longer hear their love song to Baal,

I'm tired of the occultists too,

The witches who caress a stake.


Mary, only you can still touch my heart,

I will always feel your love.



LII


I will always feel your love,

In the golden house you shine, Mother of God,

You will lead me on the path of Wisdom,

You won't take me away from Luther‘s Bible.


Who find God boring, street boys,

They are the children of an evil time,

Out of chocolate I give cat's tongues

To boys, foretaste of eternity.


Misguided, godless, superstitious all,

Who are around me in this evil world.

Because Eve fell in her fall of sin,

The whole universe with her falls.


O Mother of God with the golden leaf,

Only your love, my lady, makes me full.



LIII


Only your love, my lady, makes me full,

I live, as once Thor with his Sif,

At times lively with thee, at times dull.

And always conjugal and intense.


In my room your marble bust

Is a sign of your presence to me,

I live lonely in the silent desert

With God, the true man, God of nature.


Tired of the people of this world long ago,

I row alone on the sea.

Often I go out, but that is superfluous,

I go out full and return empty.


Thee, Goddess Wisdom, I will celebrate alone,

I praise thee in thy thousand veils.



LIV


I praise thee in your thousand veils,

Your name is Desire, I almost believe.

How many women have I been allowed to celebrate,

I've been their guest for a short time.


And when the love of women was extinguished,

The love of children was still with me,

The women have crushed me very badly,

Little boys only knew how to love me.


But even the dear boys are far from me,

How we used to laugh out loud together.

Now I sit weeping under the evening star

And I am the unloved, I am so lonely.


And yet in the mirror, mistress full of splendour,

With a thousand arms you dance your dance.



LV


With a thousand arms you dance your dance

And dances the dance as queen of happiness.

In the sky I see your splendour smiling,

I am a dim shadow at the Styx.


To my hymns, my elegies

I see you whirling in a dance of veils

And melancholy my harmonies

Playing the little song of your rosary.


Loneliness alone makes me weep

And yet you said your yes to me,

I am alone, alone with the All-One,

Beautiful love smiles, I am here!


Revealing thyself from thy seven veils,

Madonna, to you I'll recite sonnets.



LVI


Madonna, to you I‘ll recite sonnets

And Wisdom shall speak from the poet's mouth,

Like a lily I will celebrate love,

Though my heart be sore as the rose.


I want to contemplate, I want to pray,

Until Dame World has rid itself of sin,

Then I will speak Wisdom with my mouth

And cheerfully preach the children's sermon.


If Germany does not praise thee, O Mother of God,

I will comfort you with love songs,

All alone, like Martin Luther,

Will return to God's great desire to me.


I would like to harp - take it as a rosary -

Sonnets harp, mistress, wreath by wreath.



LVII


Harp sonnets, mistress, wreath by wreath

I want to compose a web of sonnets,

I cannot dance a veil dance,

I cannot ponder the law of the world.


I cannot wage war like a warrior

Nor invent technology for the world,

I can only feel my tender love

And lonely tie your rosaries.


I can only sing for you my love song

And praise my God in high hymns,

Can only sing praises as the weakest link

In Christ's corpus thy intact hymen.


All my life be thy poem of praise,

O goddess with the beautiful face.



LVIII


O Goddess with the beautiful face,

Thou dost dance and down the high wall falls,

Thou send'st thy love's smile of light

And dried up are showers of tears.


They built a high wall, then

They adorned that rampart with sharp thorns,

They painted the black wall white,

But then thechosen prayed.


They blew mightily on the shofar horns

And the high wall fell down quickly,

Now it lies there like grains of grey dust,

The righteous rejoice in God with a loud sound.


God! To goddess Freedom I sing my poem!

In every woman's light I see your light.



LIX


In every woman's light I see your light

And sometimes women shine almost spherically,

But then their faces are darkened,

They consecrate themselves to esoteric demons.


Coquettishly they play with the occult,

To make a pact with Lucifer,

They cultivate subtle Satanism

And praise the she-devil Lilith naked.


Fortune-tellers or astrologers

Lie to them, of poisonous plants

They make love potions, magic drugs,

They howl at the moon as old witches.


Mary, to you alone I dedicate my life:

I see you smiling, floating on the cloud.



LX


I see you smiling, floating on a cloud,

You beckon me new courage to live.

In your presence I live my life,

With new vigour and new ardour.


You will lead me good paths of life,

You'll lead me at last to the garden city.

I will always feel your love,

Only your love, mistress, makes me full.


I praise thee in thy thousand veils,

With a thousand arms you dance your dance.

Madonna, I will recite sonnets to thee,

Harp sonnets, mistress, wreath by wreath.


O goddess with the beautiful face,

In every woman's light I see thy light.



LXI


In every woman's light I see thy light

And it is always a young, slender one,

And always full of gentleness is the face

And quietly she is like a night thought.


In every boy I see Jesus Christ

And always he is blue-eyed and blond,

In Germany so is the boy Jesus

A sea of light, a kingdom of heaven‘s sunlit.


The old men who torment the children,

They are angry with me because the boys love me.

I honour their childlike pure souls,

As if they had remained in the kingdom of heaven.


I cannot refrain from rejoicing in boys,

And I see the nice girls in the alleys.



LXII


And I see the nice girls in the alleys,

I find the consolation I seek.

Then I don't care if the old men hate me,

Whether one is a liar or a curser.


I see the girls with the naked arms,

I see the girls with the narrow hips,

I love the summer's day, the warm summer's day,

And everything smells of girls' perfumes.


And I know a boy who is beautiful,

Is full of all beauty,

A demigod of Greece, is my moan,

An Alcibiades and an Apollo.


And when I see these beauties, light after light,

Your face hovers above them.



LXIII


Your face hovers above them,

I rejoice in thy bright smile,

The madmen greet me, and softly speaks

A child to fan me with fresh coolness.


I am a friend of children and of fools,

I am a friend of boys and girls.

Faithfully I will exalt God's favour and grace,

Madmen greet me in the town.


But the old men are godless, full of hate,

With all my heart the Stalinists hate me!

But I love boys without ceasing

And young girls, pagan or Christian.


When I see a girl floating through the alleys,

I want to embrace the idea blissfully!



LXIV


I want to embrace the idea blissfully

And be lonely, alone an outsider,

Whether the Satanists hate me too much,

I'm Mary Joseph, alas.


But at home, in the pretty cell,

I always pray your rosary,

I always stay in the same place,

Where girls dance their veil dance.


Let no one read my song of love

And let them leave me alone,

I sing alone for the Supreme Being,

The Mother of God and the Infant Jesus.


Finally, in paradise, woman of women,

There are such beautiful women's bodies.



LXV


There are such beautiful women's bodies,

Where Agnes is and Anastasia,

Where Thais is and Aphra, beautiful women,

Where are Cecilia and Agatha,


There I see the charming one, Rome's Susan,

And with the cross of martyrdom Juliet,

Our Lady and Grandmother Anne,

From Ankara Karina is also there,


There I see Gisela and Kunigunde,

Dear Mechthild too and Hildegard

And four Therese in the heavenly valley

And Magdalena, willing, soft and tender.


Sophia floats, as the Bible calls her,

High above all like a sacrament.



LXVI


High above all like a sacrament

The little boy Jesus floats as manna

And at mass my spirit confesses him

With hallelujah and with hosanna.


The tenderness of the little boy Jesus

Shall always be with me on earth.

As the boys have already caressed me,

Only the baby Jesus can be so tender.


How beautiful are the people who give themselves

To Mary, her Immaculate Heart,

That the world, which is godless, cannot think,

Mary is my own even in pain.


She is, I am not exaggerating,

My ideal, the superwoman of women.



LXVII


My ideal, the superwoman of women,

Mary puts on me a slave yoke,

I am to be a servant in mind and body.

And yet I am only an abysmal hole.


But this black hole feels flattered,

Because the beautiful boy longs for him.

The boy's love is not feigned,

He has often leaned on me.


So the black hole wants to love the beautiful boy,

Love him as if he were Jesus.

We children have a great grace,

God dwells in us, the great God of glory.


Love is after all to know God,

God for me in all elements.



LXVIII


God for me in all elements,

Love is in the inner castle of the soul.

The beautiful love that my spirit confesses,

It is she whom I enjoyed deeply intimate.


Mary, make me pure from all hate,

Mary, make me pure of aversion.

I want to love without ceasing

And quench Jesus' soul's thirst for love.


Mary, have mercy on the sick,

Have mercy on the dying, almost dead.

I want to thank you for the beautiful boy,

Make me a messenger of blessing to the boy.


Beauty I seek with moans of pleasure

And not only girls in the city are beautiful.



LXIX


And not only girls in the city are beautiful,

Beautiful is the little demon in the house too,

I anticipate my moans of pleasure,

When, like God's Wisdom, he asks me.


The little demon in the children's game

Is Alcibiades with Socrates.

The demon asks me for the goal of life

And yet rejoices in life below.


Not only the beautiful demon is very cute,

Sublime-glorious is the dead one too,

The demon's mother, sunny, sweet and southern,

She hovers around our game with sweet breath.


I'll see the dead soon, I'll wait for her,

Beautiful women are beautiful in the garden.



LXX


Beautiful women are beautiful in the garden,

So lovely in the garden is Edith Stein.

So I too must await the dark night,

When, forsaken by God, I must cry out to God.


Until then with the children of this world

I will laugh and I will cry,

I will join the angels in the firmament of heaven

With my love's song of praise.


The boy always walks by my side,

Even if I have to go before the emperor,

Who thinks himself God. Yet I walk

And patiently bear suffering and vexation.


In heaven once the angels hear beautifully

All my soul's rejoicing and moaning.



LXXI


All my soul's rejoicing and moaning

Is a language from paradise.

Why do I find Ecclesia so beautiful?

Let this remain my silent secret.


I have learned from the philosopher,

That in the boy the God is reflected.

In spite of all anger I sing my verses

And praise the God of love despite the mockery.


I am a soldier and must obey,

When God's spirit sends me to the emperor.

I want to listen to the angels,

That Jesus may look down upon me with mercy.


O boy Jesus, my heart in city and garden

Sighs to wait on thee in the service of love.



LXXII


Sighs to wait on thee in the service of love,

O little Jesus, my heart also in my heart,

I sing praises in the garden of sorrow

And sing with seraphs in my pain.


I want to die with the old and sick

And I want to live with the little boys.

I will endure if they corrupt me,

God save only the child with God's gifts.


God bless all the children in the world,

I want to be taught by them.

How else do you get to see God in heaven?

Only children may see God in heaven!


I still want to see how the power of the spirit sparkles

And how the garden blossoms beautifully in summer.



LXXIII


And how the garden blossoms beautifully in summer

And how the sun smiles through the clouds

And how refreshing summer rain sprays

And how longing glows in the people.


And I will be silent, silent of the Godhead,

The divinity, after all, is inexpressible,

I will show patience and quiet mercy,

Let all the world know that I am a Christian.


But at night I will pray, I will sing,

I will pray as a deputy for the world.

Let my prayer penetrate through all clouds,

O God, hear me in the heavens.


You, beauty, I will behold, you world soul,

In every beauty your beauty glows.



LXXIV


In every beauty thy beauty glows,

Dame Folly also hath great bare breasts.

I am the weakest member of Christ's body,

Dame Folly, I kissed her bare breasts.


Dame Folly I sucked her bosom,

I sucked Dame Folly's milk like wine.

Dame Folly was the mother of my muses,

Dame Folly poured out my songs.


Dame Folly ended in her grave,

Dame Folly went to her funeral judge,

Dame Folly left behind a child. The boy

Is now the darling for the love poet.


Dame Folly, loveliness is your face,

In every woman's light I see thy light.



LXXV


In every woman's light I see thy light,

And I see the nice girls in the alleys,

Your face hovers above them,

I would blissfully embrace the idea.


There are such beautiful women's bodies,

High above all like a sacrament

My ideal, the supreme woman of women,

God to me in all elements.


And not only girls in the city are beautiful,

Beautiful women are beautiful in the garden.

All my soul's rejoicing and moaning

Sighs to serve thee in the service of love.


And how beautifully the garden blooms in summer!

In every beauty thy beauty glows!



LXXVI


In every beauty thy beauty glows,

In Gomer I saw thy beauty else,

Yes, Gomer was my wild love song,

Which thou, O God, dost light up with thy light.


Now Gomer is gone to the realm of the dead,

Diblaim is still there, the old man,

Diblaim with the short silver hair,

Diblaim with the beard silver-white.


And also the son of the beautiful Hierodule

Is still alive, it is Jezreel.

Great is the day of Jezreel, my paramour,

Which I choose for my love songs.


O Jezreel, how beautiful is thy blossom!

Alive I see the ancient myth.



LXXVII


Alive I see the ancient myth,

Alive I see the dark night,

I see death's deadly black blossom,

I see the night with all its splendour.


The night, the night I will sing alone,

The dark and the troubled sea.

I want to penetrate to the beach of eternity

And be I still so dark and so heavy.


The night of death I want to taste completely,

The night I spend sadly in prayer,

But drunk I see in the far east

The goddess approaching, Virgin Dawn.


The Virgin Dawn glowing with laughter,

A girl who blossoms like God's beauty.



LXXVIII


A girl who blossoms like God's beauty,

I see with eyes of wise owls.

God-girl, to you I sing my love song

And must I also cry many a thousand tears.


I'll be in your lily arms

And trust in you and your majesty,

Whether I too - Jesus Christ have mercy -

I lack joy and all cheerful gladness.


I only want to suckle at the mother's breasts

Of love's youthful queen

And despite the lack of certain pleasures

Consecrate to thee my dull shoots of life.


I love thee, thou sea-born blossom,

Mary, the New Aphrodite.



LXXIX


Mary, thea New Aphrodite,

Draws me tenderly down to my death.

The asphodels sprout dark blossoms,

The blood flows from the heart bloody-red.


Magnetic is the night and the death,

Magnetic is the dark realm of the dead.

Love beyond this earth is praiseworthy,

Love like a female, willing, soft.


Down into the underworld, the abysses,

Down into death, the abysses abyss,

Down to life, down to life,

Into life, into Mary's womb.


There in the underworld I see you

In all your beauty, dear woman.



LXXX


In all your beauty, dear woman,

I died in Eurydice.

I am already ahead of farewell, and look,

After all the goodbyes I still see love.


So many women have I left,

So many children have been taken from me,

Now may the wicked hate me hotly,

I am already in the hereafter with my pious ones.


I am safe, O mistress, I am safe,

I have already gone home to the dead.

What can the evil time do to me,

Dame World with her blasphemous serpents?


In the kingdom of heaven the deep love of God

I recognise in the deepest soul drive.



LXXXI


I recognise in the deepest soul drive

In all elements God's being.

In every tree and bush I see love,

I see love, I lift up the stone.


God did not only initiate creation,

He sustains it every moment in life.

I live, because I am loved by the great

God, who made me in my mother's womb.


So Peter and John went early

And walked to see the mutation,

How Jesus became the Christ. For they

Witnessed Jesus Christ's resurrection.


I also see living in the young woman

The divine beauty of visionary vision.



LXXXII


The divine beauty of visionary vision

I just saw in a naked girl,

I look only to the young woman

Who delivered letters in the small town.


The beauty of God I have seen,

When I saw how full of joie de vivre

The golden-haired boy lived the day,

I have known him from his mother's bosom.


The beauty of God I see in the trees

And in front of the houses in the flower garden.

Even more beauty I see in dreams,

I dream of the boy, the beautiful, tender one.


Beauty lives in the shoots of my soul,

For the Godhead is the beautiful love.



LXXXIII


For the Godhead is the beautiful love,

Therefore in the church wedding is celebrated.

But I, in the deepest soul drive,

Am all alone, veiled in sadness.


And I meet my friend at the short meeting,

I am lonely, I am a stranger to all.

The homo sapiens and also the monkeys

Are all strangers to me, even in their white shirts.


And I see the bride in the house of God,

Oh, I long for the beautiful one,

But I would rather have seen a church service,

Where Christ comes to crown the child of God.


There was only one love that overflowed,

Primal beauty, St. Dionysius praised her.



LXXXIV


Primal beauty, St. Dionysius her,

I watched her in the Olympiad,

The rhythmic gymnastics I enjoyed,

A girl pretty from crown to feet,


A nineteen-year-old girl danced,

Half-naked in a glorious dress.

Enthusiastically the poet punched the punch,

As the young maiden thrilled him.


One girl not alone, no, many girls,

They twirled the airs through the clubs

And danced with the red slender threads

And all the poets howled aloud for joy.


So Plato praised Aphrodite well,

Primordial deity of primordial beauty, supreme good.



LXXXV


Primordial deity of primordial beauty, supreme good,

I saw her today in the Olympiad,

There I saw synchronously dancing in the tide

Naiad lovely beside the Naiad.


They wore a glittering bikini

And Muslims too showed naked skin,

This perfumed robe, even skimpier than a miniskirt,

Oh, a bride in a miniskirt!


How they wiggle their arms, spread their legs

And they're not stingy with grace in their dance

And play very coquettishly with their charms

And their nakedness is wrapped in splendour.


From God's light spirit overflowed

Primal beauty, which I enjoyed in the picture today.



LXXXVI


Primal beauty, which I enjoyed in the picture today,

It was a pure ray from the tabernacle,

A ray of light that flowed to my heart,

A pure ray of love, without blemish.


God called me Elijah, the weary one,

God called Joseph my name day.

Christians drew from the fountain of grace,

Since Christ's body was in our hands.


Frenchmen suddenly spoke, atheists,

Of Père et Fils et Saint-Esprit. I see

Grace come to the communists,

They suddenly speak of the Trinity.


I have indeed consumed the highest good,

I was graced with the Madonna‘s ardour.



LXXXVII


I was graced with the Madonna's ardour,

I saw the Spartans marching,

Their spears dripping with the blood of their enemies.

And all about the fair Helen!


And the Spartan phalanx marched

And all the boys followed Menelaus.

Odysseus likewise walked through the field

And on the field of war was a great chaos.


Ulysses and Nestor filled their stomachs

With delicious meat that was roasted brown,

And spurted red wine from the leather hose

Into their gullets, the red wine wonderful.


That showed me in a dream‘s vision

Madonna, light of God's beautiful light.



LXXXVIII


Madonna, light of God's beautiful light,

Greets me at home with Mary Ward.

The feminist white face

Used to sing: Hallelujah, praise the Lord!


She died without sacraments,

Only obedient to God in her own mission,

The Pope misjudged her to the end,

Disappointed, hopelessly perishing.


But Mary Ward never recanted,

She remained faithful to her own calling.

Now she climbs the steps to the throne of the Lord,

That she may rejoice with the damsels there.


Woman, this you have shown in the vision of dreams,

You, God's feminine face.



LXXXIX


You, God's feminine face,

I believe, God, you are like a mother.

At midnight the little boy speaks,

You, poet, are as calm as a Buddha.


In the morning again the boy babbles,

You, poet-philosopher, you are quite great!

The boy beautifully slurps the sweet wisdom,

Of sweet sapientia he is full!


God, thanks for the loving boy,

Thanks for love, giver of happiness!

The little angels have saved me

From the derangement down by the Styx!


God, to your love I sing my song,

In every beauty thy beauty glows.



XC


In every beauty thy beauty glows,

Alive I see the ancient myth,

A girl who blooms like God's beauty,

Mary, a new Aphrodite.


In all thy beauty, Our Lady,

I recognise in the deepest soul's impulse

The divine beauty of visionary vision,

For the Godhead is the Beautiful Love!


Primordial beauty praised by Dionysius,

Primordial divinity of primordial beauty, supreme good,

Primordial beauty, which today I enjoyed in the icon,

The Madonna's glow was merciful to me.


Madonna, light of God's beautiful light,

You, God's feminine face!



XCI


You, God's feminine face,

Sophia, see the injustice:

I was a light to my children,

Now they are led far from me.


The enemy's wickedness is so immeasurable,

They do not want the children to meet me.

The little children are very forgetful,

Now Satan tries to ape Jesus.


Already I am forgotten by my children,

But I do not forget them in prayer.

I pray together with the overcomers,

Because our time is in God's hands.


Ecclesia, I camp in your tent,

You, God's sanctuary in this world.



XCII


You, God's sanctuary in this world,

The Jews call thee Maid Shechinah,

I open thy blue canopy of heaven

And rest by God's sea in the east there.


I swim with the darling in a race

And feed him richly with carrots,

Then I'll put him to bed before midnight

And pray for the mother who is dead.


Forgetful are the boys of my honour,

They have half forgotten me now.

Oh, if I too were forgetful,

My soul could rest in peace.


O boy-eye! Fine face!

You mirror full of God's beautiful light!



XCIII


You mirror full of God's beautiful light,

Thou beauty of the world, gracious sun.

The old woman with the evil face

Is envious of the poet's bliss of love.


That is the pleasure for these old women,

To spoil the wise heart's day.

And because their fat bodies are withered,

So shall the little ones' joy die.


The old women's tongue, a scourge,

With which they and boys whip the poet.

But out of the marble with a chisel I'll strike

Our Lady and mother of all Germans.


The Bible the poet holds to his heart,

The word's chaste tent of revelation.



XCIV


The Word's chaste tent of revelation

Is to me the wise Bible,

Prophets that proclaim God to the world,

I love the virgin Torah.


The boys eat sugar at the stalls

And in righteous wrath is the holy race,

If one speaks evil of Jews

And speaks mockingly of their noses.


But not only National Socialists

Are Satanists, playthings of the demons,

Communists too, left-wing terrorists,

They do Satan's work in all zones.


Mary, you are stronger, boundless,

You are the true temple of Solomon.



XCV


You are the true temple of Solomon,

Mary, pour wisdom into me.

Prince Jussuf, the prophet's power is great,

I study him and Doctor Edith Stein.


My mother's father is judged,

He was a national socialist.

The grandson has already written many a verse

For Israel, who is God's favourite.


I hate anti-Semitism with a passion,

It is the brother of the Antichrist.

I create in the sweat of my face

The hymn of praise in the style of the Platonists


For you, O maiden, crowned with stars,

O ark of the covenant, O daughter Sion.



XCVI


O ark of the covenant, O daughter Sion,

Ah, that thy love may quell the lad,

Thou mistress of Pleiades and Orion,

Drive Satan's spirit out of the boy!


He saw the old witch as Medusa,

With serpent girdle and serpent curls.

The infernal Empusa is driven out

Only by Ecclesia and her bells.


The witnesses of torture are true heroes to him,

Who sacrificed themselves for the truth.

As a preacher I could report this to him

And found an open ear by the beautiful boy.


O bless him, O wisdom of Solomon!

The temple of God is your chaste womb.



XCVII


The temple of God is your chaste womb,

In the temple of God flows the grace of love.

Drunk with grace I am boundless,

That no devil from hell may harm me.


Around a boy I saw little devils,

They blew something into him, he cursed a lot.

Then I came to him without doubt of faith,

The band of little devils fell from him.


Then he listened sensibly to my sermon

And blessed me with love very strongly.

When he had rid himself of his little devils

Love glowed in his marrow.


Wisdom from Mount Sion did this,

The Lord who created Pleiades and Orion.



XCVIII


The Lord who created Pleiades and Orion,

And the Creator's Mother has blessed me today.

I consecrated myself to the Virgin, daughter Sion,

So that it rains down streams of graces.


Today I was in France with a boy,

We ate the baguette there with cheese.

Then I saw and immediately fell into a trance,

A young girl, she was beautiful and nice.


I looked at her long naked legs,

They were like the legs of the gazelle.

Oh, if this girl were mine tonight,

Blessed would be the hermit's cell.


O maiden, I sing to thee with a fair chime,

Thou art the fair royal hall.



XCIX


Thou art the fair royal hall,

Our Lady, I have wept enough.

I cried tears like the waterfall,

But now beautiful the rainbow shines.


I want to accept the joy now,

Much joy the little boys gave me,

I always want to respect the beauty,

The beauty that girls have in them.


Sophia, long have I sought you,

I have loved you, led you home,

No matter how much the devil curses me,

I have felt your glory.


Mary, lead me out into the distance,

Thou art the golden house of God's wisdom.



C


Thou art the golden house of God's wisdom,

Mary, you loved me in my youth,

Madly I went out for love,

It seemed to me a young girl had virtue.


But she had no desire for me,

So she said, and drove the nails into me.

In a white dress, in a silky white skirt

She was like hard grain of ice, like hail.


I wanted to murder myself then,

Mary saved me with Jesus.

It was the dark time in the far north,

I almost lay down in the realm of the dead.


O God, I thank thee with a beautiful sound,

In thy bosom all live, all weave.



CI


In thy bosom all live, all weave,

But I felt so godforsaken,

I, who have been madly in love

And reap cold hatred for love.


I praised the woman's beautifully arched cheek

And called her goddess in my writings,

But she was more like a serpent of fire

And bit me near to death with her venom.


Mad in the house of idiots,

Mad love still burns within me.

But the help of the blessed dead helped me

And the sacrament of the sick healed me.


Mary, you rescue us from the madhouse,

You lead us out of the valley of tears.



CII


You lead us out of the valley of tears,

Since on earth Lucifer reigns.

God is the elephant, I am the mouse,

God yet leads me by his hands.


The radical revolutionaries

Claim that Satan sets his foot

On Michael and rob him of his honour,

Freemasons say this, to God's chagrin.


Saint George protects my little boy,

Saint George is called Saint Yuri in Russia.

He shall have a tent in paradise

And in the tent seventy-two Houris!


Mary, protect the child whose innocence blossoms,

You face of creation, World-Soul.



CIII


You face of creation, World-Soul,

Protect the little child in the sea.

Whether in the little child the divinity still blossoms?

He is surrounded by an army of enemies.


So I ask St. Maximilian,

Whom the fascists recently killed,

That he may protect the boy from the devil

And from the underworld and eternal night.


Saint Maximilian, consecrate the boy

To the Immaculate Heart of Our Lady,

That Saint Mary may free this child

From Satan, that the child may see the Godhead!


Mary, my song is sung to you,

Thy smile in every blossom blooms for me.



CIV


Your smile blooms for me in every blossom,

You were queen in Media

And Persia, I sing to you, world-soul,

My love song in the new medias.


From Babylon the Genesis I bring,

What Zarathustra spoke of wisdom,

Of the Egyptian wisdom I sing to thee

And what the Jews sang from the roof of heaven.


But now comes Mary's Ascension

And after the Ascension, Mary's coronation.

This is a dogma revealed by God,

I sing your eternal adornment.


Mary, you are the light of my life,

You, God's feminine face.



CV


You, God's feminine face,

You, God's sanctuary in this world,

Thou mirror, full of God's beautiful light,

The Word's chaste tent of revelation,


Thou art the true temple of Solomon,

Thou ark of the covenant and thou daughter Sion,

The temple of God is thy chaste womb,

Of the Lord who created Pleiades and Orion.


Thou art the beautiful royal hall,

Thou art the golden house of God's wisdom,

In thy bosom all live, all weave,

Thou leadest us out of the valley of tears.


You are the face of creation, world-soul,

Thy smile in every blossom blooms for me.



CVI


Your smile blooms for me in every blossom,

Omnipresent, Queen of Heaven,

I see you in dreams, world-soul,

When I'm still intoxicated with sleep in the morning.


And grace upon grace tonight,

I have in the loveliest of dreams

With my dead made love beautiful

And deeply satisfied me the foam.


Yes, you have ascended to heaven,

Mary, my girlfriend is with thee,

With the blessed in the throng of lust,

And often sends me love's greetings.


O world-soul, I love thee dearly,

I pick up the stone and I find thee.



CVII


I lift up the stone and I find you,

I lift up my hands and pray to the spirit.

Ah boredom! Me with my ego!

Until the spirit snatches me out of my loneliness.


Then the little boy whispers to me,

Come secretly, my mother must not know,

I want to play with you, my dear,

You read to me, I sit on the cushion.


Yes, as Goethe says, the child is droll,

A croissant can satisfy him.

And just before midnight I roll home

And listen to the radio on fine waves.


Then I sing to thee lonely, world-soul,

Thy praises be ever my song.



CVIII


Thy praises be ever my song,

So today I dedicate the swan‘s love to thee,

That melancholy went through my mind,

Since I live in the north in great gloom.


She wrote to me, Dear Pied Piper,

Thy cloak is of white rat's fur.

I was her cricket catcher, her minstrel,

A good-for-nothing, a jolly fellow.


We were both so infinitely lonely,

In the North I, and in the North she too,

Like ghosts we both lived together

In the wondrous realm of poetry.


Of this swan I remember thee,

Your master singer, Our Lady, am I.



CIX


Your master singer, Our Lady, am I

And had I been in Babylon

In ancient times, surely

The world would have read my song of Tiamat.


Then I would be Ishtar‘s minstrel

And sung my love goddess blandly

And would have sung as a cricket catcher

An epic of the hero Gilgamesh.


Great Babylon has sunk

And today I sit over the fragments

And sing Our Lady and the Son of God

With the elements of a good song,


As if I were Germany's master singer.

But I sing not for my own honour.



CX


But I sing not for my own honour,

I sing only the praise of God's wisdom.

And if I were an ancient Jew,

But Abraham and Moses are too rude,


David, too, has waged too many wars,

No, I would rather be the son of David,

Shaded in the cradle by love,

I'd rather be the wise Solomon.


There was culture and spirit and all kinds

Of Wisdom of proverbs in the glorious and beautiful peace.

For my wives I would have

Built temples beautiful here.


Sophia, my divine Queen,

I sing your praises, O Stella Matutina.



CXI


I sing your praises, O Stella Matutina,

I sing thy praises, O morning star, O aster!

If I were in Greece, O Virgin,

I would sing love full of lust and vice.


I would sing as a poet of pious mystique

Like Sappho of the island of Lesbos beautiful,

Alone to me would be the goddess Aphrodite,

I loved her with burning moans.


I wrote like the blind man Homer

Odysseus' song, the song of his son,

And wrote odes to the boy Eros

In grey hair like once Anacreon.


I sing, Zeus, to your great honour,

How the choirs of angels sing praise to thee.



CXII


The choirs of angels sing praise to you,

So do I sing praise to thee, a Chinese

In spirit, as if I were a real Chinese,

Because I love to read books from China.


If there's a time period I like

It's the Tang Dynasty. Let it be

My asylum in spirit in the old world,

There sang Du Fu and sang so beautifully Li Bai.


I courted Yang Gue-fe as a poet,

Whom I served with the music office poetry,

I sang at court all these lights

In the Shi-poem classical and in Mandarin.


Mary, O Queen of China,

Thou art the angel's heavenly Queen.



CXIII


Thou art the angel‘s heavenly Queen,

Thou art the queen of the people of Rome.

I praise thee, O Goddess, O Virgin,

I celebrate mass to thee in St. Peter's.


Thou art the divinity's beautiful immanence,

Which I see in every woman's beauty.

Ah, lived I in neo-Platonic Florence

Like Dante of the heavenly idea!


Ah, in Florence, in neo-Platonic Florence,

I praised my divine Madonna,

I cheerfully sing in ironic style

The woman who wears nothing but the sun!


As a Neo-Platonist in the Eon of Light

I praise God's and Mary's Son.



CXIV


I praise God and Mary's son

Beautiful in Germanic genius time,

I would gladly live in the classical aeon

And let my sound resound classically.


I sing to the jubilant flute

Madonna as the goddess, my ideal,

I'd be friends with Schiller and with Goethe

And Hölderlin in the hall of ideas.


I prophesy of Madonna mantically

In a Greek-classical mania

And sang Our Lady romantically

And praised her as my Blue Flower.


I too am begotten of God's spirit,

I myself am God's and Mary's child.



CXV


I myself am God's and Mary's child

And children and poets are related.

O child of jesters, you are so sweet and gentle,

I praise God for thy love's land.


If the old women hate me bitterly,

The sweet little boys love me.

I can't believe the love is true

That these little children have for me.


I do everything for their love,

What I do for them, I do for the Lord.

And that is why with every soul‘s shoot

The little God also loves me with all his heart.


I love the little Son of God,

The boy I see on his throne.



CXVI


I see the boy on his throne,

He is the little God of sweet love.

With all my heart I love the Son of God

And serve him with every shoot of my soul.


I offer sacrifices to him in great heat

And bring sacrifices to him in sharp frost.

I love him even when I sweat mightily,

I serve him and give him my comfort.


When I come home, Wisdom is already waiting,

Lady Wisdom I see in the icon,

The immaculate beauty on the throne,

She is undoubtedly a deity.


How beautiful her bare breasts are,

So white and radiant and so sweet and mild.



CXVII


So white and radiant and so sweet and balmy

Madonna is with flawless skin.

So pure as with the newborn child

The white skin is of my goddess-bride.


The long black hair - a mane!

The eyebrows fine as a scale!

The lips kissable! The teeth radiant white!

The almond eyes look erotically vague!


The slender neck a white swan's neck!

Perfectly formed the girlish breasts!

O beauty queen, woman of the universe,

I consecrate my lusts to your beauty!


O maiden goddess or fair maiden,

God-creator has highly blessed thee.



CXVIII


God-Creator has highly blessed you,

Thou art the pure queen of beauty,

You are the beauty goddess, fair maiden,

You are the goddess, I am your slave.


I adore your pure beauty,

Oh, such beauty has only a goddess!

You are a goddess, I am a man,

A poet I, you my soul's spouse!


You, beauty, are from another star,

Surely, thou art the queen of Venus,

I love thee, I love thee more than well,

And smiling, Jesus of Nazareth hears me,


When I call thee goddess, fair maiden,

World soul you are to me from eternity.



CXIX


World soul you are to me from eternity,

You are the Platonic idea to me,

Beauty is a woman, is a maiden,

Beauty I see in thy image.


Yes, the idea of beauty seems female to me,

The ideal of beauty, God's woman,

I see her in the mirror lovely-bodied,

I see the beauty in visionary sight.


So beautiful the femininity - probably a goddess?

In the divinity full of charm a woman?

O God's goddess, my soul's spouse,

I see her with the spotless womb!


You, Goddess, are my wife and my world soul,

Thy smile in every blossom blossoms for me.



CXX


Your smile blooms for me in every blossom,

I lift up the stone and I find thee,

Thy praise be ever my song,

Thy master singer, dear lady, am I.


But I sing not for my own honour,

I sing thy praises, O Stella Matutina,

How the choirs of angels sing praise to thee,

Thou art the angels' heavenly Queen.


I praise the Son of God and Mary,

I myself am God's and Mary's child.

I see the boy on his throne,

So white and radiant and sweet and mild.


God-Creator has highly blessed you,

World soul you are to me from eternity.



CXXI


World soul you are to me from eternity,

World soul and the ideal of beauty.

How beautiful is Mary, fair maiden,

Before her fair hair I must groan,


Her long fine hair, as black as varnish,

Her almond eyes shine like magic,

How slender is her nose, full of taste,

How her face is radiant with the power of beauty,


How kissable are her rosy lips,

Her teeth are pearls or ivory,

From her purple mouth I would sip,

From her breasts drink cyper wine!


Mary, you are not for hollow fools,

World soul, who gave birth to the All-Reason.



CXXII


World soul that gives birth to all-reason,

How I would suck thy white breasts!

How slender the arms, like golden pipes,

How delicate the fingers, giver of delights,


How slender her hands, and slender her fingers, long,

How flexible her legs like cypresses,

How luscious her thighs, round and slender,

I cannot forget those beautiful thighs.


Of all the maidens, all the brides she is

The most beautiful under the light of the sun,

No woman equals her in harmony,

The most beautiful woman in the world is my delight!


You, most beautiful, the Creator has blessed,

The Logos' mother, the beloved maiden.



CXXIII


The Logos' mother, the beloved maiden,

Perfect in beauty and harmony,

Harmonious is her face blessed,

Who fills me with deep sympathy.


In all things the woman is so wise and prudent,

Full of motherly all-mercifulness,

Yes, a goddess she seems in heaven's circle,

Beauty's eternal queen.


And full of grace she moves her hands

And rays flow from the hands shining,

Long hair she holds before her loins,

Moistening the world with her love's dew.


So do not the vain fools see Mary,

Who receive God's Word with her ear.



CXXIV


Who receive God's Word with her ear,

She hears my dream at noon.

No sooner was the dead girlfriend born again,

She appeared beautiful in my soul‘s room.


So warmly she greeted me, embraced me,

As if she had come from a long journey.

She took pity on me like an angel

And called me childlike and yet wise.


She told me of her love‘s life,

How many she kissed in passing.

I saw the white body floating before me

And missed her dear body.


Now her body in heaven's distance

See the sons of God and the morning stars.



CXXV


The sons of God and the morning stars

And all the angel boys, lions of God,

They are in another world far away,

Which is above, we sail there like gulls.


We came to the gate of the other world,

Where lush is the living silence.

There where all children are happy,

There even rabbits find their bounty.


Then we descended to the underworld

And saw there demonic ruins.

And ever deeper, ever deeper falls

The ugliness that Satan would serve.


The angels returned home with much gain.

Lady Wisdom they praised in the beginning.



CXXVI


They praised Lady Wisdom in the beginning

As a sweet paradise of love's delight,

In which I am eternally enclosed,

O woman in a light dress of the sun's light.


This summer, my queen,

I lift thee up as a spotless beauty.

Still my blind earthly sense sees thee thus

And already I moan softly in admiration.


But you say, I am more beautiful in heaven!

Even more beautiful, my queen of beauty?

Christ, the reconciler, has deified you,

Now you are a goddess-woman in the mind of God!


I was fond of you in childhood,

I flee back to the long ago.



CXXVII


I flee back to the long distance of time

And come to the beginning of the world.

Lady Wisdom lived before the light of the stars,

Before she set up the firmament.


Primordial beauty she, the source of all beauty,

Who created all things with her breath of love.

Now we groan eternally for the primordial beauty

And want to live such love too.


Which hovers above all beauty as beauty,

She is my highest ideal.

And when I groan before the many beautiful things,

I love primordial beauty in the hall of ideas.


I look towards the primordial beauty eternally

And see the beginning with the sense of faith.



CXXVIII


And I see the beginning with the sense of faith,

Lady Wisdom creates the world through her dance!

You have come, Queen of Heaven,

Thy body so brown, thy garment so bright!


You danced and embraced the cross

And gave me divine knowledge,

I was aglow when thou hadst mercy on me,

You sent me to earth for confession.


You poured your fire into me

And received me into your bosom,

In divine knowledge I melted away

And blissfully swam in the sea of love.


Madonna, brown woman, I love you very much,

Thou first of creatures, yet ever more.



CXXIX


Thou first of creatures, yet ever more,

Thou supreme mistress of all creatures!

The little boy I love very much,

I love in him God's light footsteps,


He drew me aside by the old furniture,

Alms I gave out of charity,

While the Lord was condemned by a rabble

In self-satisfied impiety,


I gave the child a sweet happiness,

He rejoiced, that was thanks enough.

Then I returned to the vain world,

To the harlot full of demonic stench.


Mary, you fed me with light,

Thou eternal idea in God's spirit.



CXXX


Thou eternal idea in God's spirit,

Mary, be thou advocate to all,

To everyone who does not praise Jesus Christ,

Who has fallen into the clutches of Satan.


Mary, pray for the poor sinners,

Who call themselves Buddhists,

But blasphemously torment the Messiah

And yet are secretly Satanists.


And pray for the very confused spirits,

Who Buddha, Krishna or Mohammed

Equate Jesus, my Lord and Master,

And call folly believing in prayer.


I love you so much from creation on:

God was the dove and you were the sea.



CXXXI


God was the dove and you were the sea,

Mary, thou Materia, thou Mater,

Tthou Magna Mater, O I love thee very much,

Thou matrix for the Creator, God the Father.


I consecrate the little children's souls to you,

Whether their parents are as godless as they may be,

They still believe in God, for never torture

Will the Lord God a dear little child.


The children are the Lord's favourites,

He laid down his royal crown,

They become kings, he loves them,

They are the purest members of his body.


Mary, to you I consecrate the spirit of the children.

From your original substance came the universe.



CXXXII


From your primordial substance came the universe,

You motherly queen of heaven.

God sent me the cross, the spirit of suffering,

Stigmatised I am in the heart.


High above stands the Lord with his arrows,

To punish me for all my sins.

O Mother, only you can heal my heart,

Protect me from God‘s wrath with thy mantle!


If God will condemn me to hell,

I'll take refuge in my mother's arms.

O that the milk would flow from your bosom!

O Mother of God, Mother, have mercy!


You, Mother, are the sanctity of woman,

Thou woman in all the beauty of thy womb.



CXXXIII


You woman in all the beauty of your womb,

Who called me to holiness,

You soften with a woman's gentleness

My cross in all its horror!


What evil has the Lord done to me!

I am not of brass, I am not marble!

But then the Mother mildly admonishes me:

As a layman I called you into my Carmel.


Whoever wants to become holy must suffer!

A little bit of paradise makes everything good.

Madonna, white woman in a dress of silk,

I consecrate all my blood shed to you.


You woman of light in the transparency of the body,

Pre-existent ideal of woman!



CXXXIV


Pre-existent ideal of woman,

In spite of all my gloom I will remain grateful,

I see the charms of a beautiful woman,

I see the poets go about their nonsense,


I see the beautiful girls dancing delightfully,

I see the little boys playing merrily.

I will return home one day to the great whole,

The pleasure remains eternal at the goal of faith.


What has been inscribed in truth

My life, as a monument, remains everlasting.

But be it enough, for I am full of life,

I wait for death a little anxiously.


You alone are my comfort, fair maiden,

World soul you are to me from eternity.



CXXXV


World soul you are to me from eternity,

World soul, who gave birth to the All-Reason,

The Logos' mother, the beloved maiden,

Who receives God's Word with her ear.


The sons of God and the morning stars

Lady Wisdom praised in the beginning,

I flee back through the long ages

And see the beginning with the sense of faith.


Thou first of creatures, yet more,

Thou eternal idea in God's mind,

God was the dove and you were the sea,

From thy substance was made the universe.


You woman in all the beauty of your body,

Pre-existent ideal of woman!



CXXXVI


Pre-existent ideal of woman,

I saw you today in a dream,

As gazelles slim the palm of thy body,

I was allowed to go to school with you,


But in school there was no learning,

For in school there was only kissing.

Of the wisdom of the cathedrals I removed,

Because kissable, sweet and beautiful is my girl.


I think you just counted seventeen years,

A girl more beautiful than the beautiful women,

Veiled by the long silken hair,

Eyes almond-shaped, large and brown.


I kissed you when I saw you in a dream,

You flawless, God's femina!



CXXXVII


You flawless, God's femina,

How do men see their death?

The black panther the shaman saw

And the Buddhist a bright light,


The Protestant saw Jesus, God the Father

In silver-white hair, snow-white beard.

In my death come, O Magna Mater,

O Mother, revealed by love!


I only for ever see the spotless one,

The Motherly Love of God incarnate.

On my grave you are the red rose,

Who as Madonna adorns my tombstone.


I am all thine, O eternity of woman,

Person incarnate in the light of the body.



CXXXVIII


Person incarnate in the light of the body,

In the memory of the world, all remains young,

Even the dear children of a beautiful woman,

They remain in divine memory,


When Wisdom made me a pedagogue

And love of God made me a dear father,

I have not brought them up in vain in God,

In thee remains it all, O Magna Mater,


You store it all up in eternity,

Enrich it with your holiness.

In eternity time meets me,

Happiness becomes bliss above.


I consecrate the children to thee, Femina,

Materia and Sedes Sapientia.



CXXXIX


Materia and Sedes Sapientia,

Imprisoned I in the grave of my flesh,

But God is spirit and God is always there,

I see a divine, a loving and chaste one.


Ah, if I were still in the heaven of ideas

And looked on God's beauty unblinking!

But now I am in the earthly turmoil

And see folly reign in the land.


The body oppresses the spirit that thinks many things,

But the spirit in freedom thinks the idea.

The idea of beauty that gives itself to me,

In many a likeness I see thee shine.


Primal beauty I would like to see eternally,

Who sings women's praise for women.



CXL


He who sings women's praise for women,

He loves in women also the beautiful hyle,

The morpho he will see pure in spirit.

In love‘s passion and wise coolness.


Formed is very beautiful Materia

And in Materia I see the Form,

Shaped Materia I lovingly saw,

In the spirit her form existed.


Thus we love the bliss of the body

And also the corporeality of the soul.

All this is the love stimulus of the woman,

Which I never on earth lack to praise.


But, alas, women's lives are fleeting,

To the primordial woman I will ever give glory.



CXLI


I will always pay homage to the primordial woman,

Who with the soul and the body

Is in eternity, in true life,

The spirit deified and the body a breath.


She is the sign of our perfection

And her body is already risen,

The body is light, incredible its dazzle,

The soul triumphant in her throne.


O, the transitoriness of the bodily beauty

Remains in the resurrection!

The unity of body and soul makes me groan,

I see the whole universe in its turning.


The seer sees the woman of women in the universe,

The primordial woman he will behold above all.



CXLII


The primordial woman he will behold above all,

His master of wisdom she is to him.

The pure ideal of beautiful women,

She teaches him wisdom, intimate and sublime.


A monk and a nun said to me,

If the priests cannot understand you,

So the Lord will guide you, he will guide you,

Guide you even through his love‘s burning.


The divinity of love will guide you,

The divinity of wisdom will guide you.

Sophia, I can feel your guidance,

O Charity, you will always guide me.


Lady Wisdom has given love to me,

Of beautiful love the inward life.



CXLIII


Beautiful love's inner life

I saw yesterday in the boy,

Who embraces me so warmly just now,

We embraced each other so lovingly.


As Hesse says, I am Don Quixote,

The boys look up to my hand, they see

God's splendour and devote themselves to God.

And go on pilgrimage with me to the Orient.


And I return home in the evening to my chamber,

Lady Wisdom is already waiting for me there,

O that I might cling to her body

And drink kisses of her graceful charm!


Beauty shines there, immaculate and sweet,

The woman's body, man's paradise.



CXLIV


The woman's body, man's paradise,

Appears before me, so pleasing to me,

She speaks to me sweetly in a gentle voice,

One day the world of creation will be complete,


When all men are in the beyond

And when paradise is finally full,

When Jesus comes again, the baby Jesus,

That will be a feast, we'll celebrate like fools!


I listen to Lady Wisdom, the Immaculate,

Pentecostals and Evangelicals,

Lady Wisdom wisely warns me of the sects,

Who have stolen so many souls from the Church.


But already the city of jade shows me

Promising women's charm and grace.



CXLV


Promising women's charm and grace

Can charm me in the splendour of youth,

How beautiful the woman from crown to calf

And how bashful in maidenly virtue.


In comparison, the old women are witches,

With grey hair and warts on their noses,

For pets they keep snakes, lizards

And rats! I'm in ecstasy,


When I think of their young daughters,

In paradise they're all young!

I turn my mind to paradise,

To Eden's girls, full of enthusiasm!


O womanhood in the paradise of heaven,

The woman's body is light and sweet in thee!



CXLVI


The woman's body is light and sweet in you,

So you remain in my memory,

Madonna of the garden paradise,

So spotless, so graceful, so young!


Whether old women blaspheme my verses,

When I have sung glory to their daughters,

I remain faithful to the young sisters of the Muses,

The graces in Charis' sanctuary!


I saw Madonna, the immaculate one,

In the cottage garden outside the town,

I gave her a pure white rose,

For this girl seemed to me a goddess of beauty.


Primordial beauty I behold! That is your grace,

You woman in the body like transparent jade!



CXLVII


Woman in the body like transparent jade,

Only a short time ago born in paradise,

Created for my delight, from the calf

Very slowly upwards to the shell ears,


You primavera in the Garden of Eden,

You new moon, my elf and my angel,

I will speak of thy beauty drunkenly,

I see no fault in thy beauty.


Your almond eye shines and your smile

Melting enchantingly around your red lips,

Your long brown eyelashes fan graciously,

At the red wine of thy mouth I'll sip.


Dewy rose! Chosen maiden!

You paradise woman in eternity!



CXLVIII


You paradise woman in eternity,

You heavenly maiden, the moon won't let me sleep,

Luna in her white silk dress

As shepherdess walks with her starry sheep.


But the cantata was beautiful in the morning,

Like a child's home the music of Bach,

Bach was the godfather of my baptism,

I hear him jubilate Jesus.


The cathedral of the cantata builds

The temple around the host, God's body.

To Wisdom I have entrusted myself,

Who is my love, my wife.


Lady Wisdom I love for ever and ever,

To me the epitome of loveliness.



CXLIX


To me the epitome of loveliness

Is the Platonic‘s vision of the girl,

Who looks at her breasts behind her dress,

The dress woven of the finest threads.


She is a dream! She is an ideal!

She is a girl without a flaw!

She is the goddess in the hall of ideas!

She is the virgin before the tabernacle!


Whom Plato and also Plotinus once beheld

And Dionysius Areopagita,

Primordial beauty she is, my soul's bride,

The holy Madonna Aphroditissa!


I see in the grace of her body

The pre-existent ideal of woman.



CL


Pre-existent ideal of woman,

Without blemish, God's Femina,

Person incarnate in the light of the body,

Materia et Sedes Sapientia!


Who sang praises to women,

To the primordial woman he will always give glory,

The primordial woman he will behold above all,

The beautiful love's inner life.


The woman's body, man's paradise,

Promising women's charm and grace,

The woman's body is light and sweet in you,

Woman in the body like transparent jade.


You paradise woman in eternity,

The epitome of loveliness to me!



CLI


The epitome of loveliness

Was the Frenchwoman with the sweet mouth,

Now she is with God in eternity,

I miss her body, I am heart-sore.


I hear a melancholy: Remember!

A sad melancholy overcomes me.

How melancholy comes the September,

I drown my deep sorrow in wormwood.


The dear body will one day rise again,

We are all naked in paradise!

Until then I want to see, as in dreams,

Memories of the sweet acts of love.


She who rules me, the darling of the urges,

Is Our Lady, the Queen of Love.



CLII


Is Our Lady, the Queen of Love,

Not gracious beyond measure? So dear are you,

When I was enslaved by the yoke of instincts,

You freed me, gave me peace of mind.


To the lovely Frenchwoman as domestic

I practised Charity as the last slave.

But now God gives me a quiet happiness,

Hermitically I serve the Lord Jehovah.


God has taken from me all burdens

And given me the silent goddess leisure,

To me, whom the godless all hated,

Opportunity for the work of repentance.


So good to me is virginity,

Thine, Lady, I am for time and eternity.



CLIII


Yours, Lady, I am for time and eternity,

Sublime sovereign in the height of God.

I cannot see this poverty's sorrow,

Lady Poverty, plagued by the army of fleas.


I see this ugliness, this misery,

Poverty is an abomination to the aesthete.

Beauty alone is inspiring to me,

Most beautiful, goddess of heaven of the Aztecs.


st. Francis has the leper yet

Embraced, in the poor he saw his Lord.

But I see shy away from this hole,

In which the poor stand up to their necks.


Give me great love for my wife's poverty,

Thou comforter, when I am much deceived.



CLIV


Thou comforter, when I greatly deceive myself,

Lady Wisdom gives comfort with a word.

The carnal men have no love

For me, the spiritual man for evermore.


When I preach the gospel

Of God's beauty that alone saves us,

Then the mob lolls in sin

And lasciviously lay themselves in terrorism.


The Buddhist wants to know nothing of Jesus,

The occultist knows nothing of the Father,

Of the Son of God nothing the Islamist,

The Pentecostal nothing of God's Magna Mater.


But I piously serve the Wisdom of God,

Sublime woman and ruler, come now!



CLV


Sublime woman and ruler, come now

And do a work of consolation to me!

I piously lament my black sorrow

And all my troubles I entrust to thee.


How beautifully the boy has excused himself,

He still remains alone as my page,

As a darling to whom the love poet pays homage,

He rejoices in the cute face.


I put the boy to bed,

I read to him, I blessed him still.

Now I am again in the dark night

And lonely in the abyssal hole.


Let me tell you all my laments

And help me to bear my sorrow in patience.



CLVI


And help me to bear my suffering in patience

And lead me from my restlessness to rest

And graciously hear all my lamentations

And stay with me, O woman - only me and you!


I saw in the dark night by the roadside

Near the forest stood the dead woman!

How my sorrowful heart laughed!

She was a messenger of love from Paradise.


I say: Paradise! Perhaps more precise:

Is not her stay in purgatory?

How beautifully she comforts my black grief,

Who once was my love's adventure.


Now, dark night, come to your seer,

Affliction makes the faithful prayers pious.



CLVII


Affliction makes the faithful prayerful,

As a pious man I see in a dream at night

The father Abraham. O father, come!

Thy long beard is white as sea foam.


And in the dream's fantastic theatre

I see God the Father laughing before me,

Ancient in years is the eternal father

And dress and hair and beard as white as snow.


And in the dream's fantastic theatre

I suddenly see my soul mate,

Mary, I praise her as Magna Mater,

Yes, heretically I praise her as goddess!


What my father did to me in the old days,

I can always complain to the Great Mother.



CLVIII


I can always complain to the Great Mother,

I can always complain to the Immaculate,

That the pious are rare in our day

And many gather in false sects.


What do they know of Methodius and Cyril

And of the great Prince Vladimir?

The Great Prince Vladimir wants the faith,

Who adorns himself with reason as adornment.


He said this word to the Turks,

The Russian is too fond of liquor.

So away with the Koran, away with Mahomed,

I love the red wine as a real symbol.


I also must too much love the red wine,

You refuge of the beautiful sinners.



CLIX


You refuge of beautiful sinners,

I saw such a beautiful sinner,

She was half naked, I almost had to love her,

Then it came to me in time:


This little woman is too young

For an old man like me.

But in heaven, full of enthusiasm,

All are young, that will be my gain.


I looked at the mother: O the fine mildness!

Misguided though she is, and a member of false sects,

But I see in the maternal image

The mild motherhood of the Immaculate.


Mary is born, God's house,

Who spends God's motherly love.



CLX


God's motherly love is given,

The revealed love for God's children.

O, until I am in God the Father's house,

I'll love with all my soul's drive!


The boy Jesus had a ball,

He played a game with his ball,

He hurled it through the universe,

Then finally threw it and aimed it,


Then the ball stopped in the bushes.

And that ball is me, O boy Jesus,

I want that you win in the game alone,

If only I have given thee joy.


I want to win the Father's dwelling.

I want to love God's motherly love.



CLXI


I want to love the motherly love of God,

For God the Father is so motherly,

I only want to win God's love,

By God's love alone I live.


God the Father, like a mother, delicately

Leads us into paradise, to nurse us.

So tenderly motherly is God's way,

He makes us blessed against our will.


We only want earthly desires

And know nothing on earth but lust.

We are earthly in all our thinking

And want only the young woman's breast.


Mary I will love in and out,

On earth and one day in the Father's house.



CLXII


On earth and one day in the Father's house

I will pray for my dearest darling.

He never leaves my heart,

Since he so lovingly entered.


O Father, protect the son you raised,

Thou revealest thyself in his life!

But I drown in the waves of melancholy

And seek comfort in the wild spirit of the vines.


The enemies who took my darling from me,

Reward them with your holiness.

I long for this little pious one

And will ask for his eternity.


Lady, bless him with the beauty of your body,

O God's love in the form of woman.



CLXIII


O God's love in the form of woman,

I dreamed of my friend, the little boy,

I saw them before me in the form of the body,

Who involuntarily left me.


The one child has departed from me,

That worldly lost itself in this world,

The other child, starred by a dark star,

Came to me, came from the devil's moor.


The third held me tenderly by the hand

And said, Daddy, what is passion?

I showed him the land of the passions

And God's wisdom and God's strength.


O bless him with a woman's love,

Holy Spirit in the sacrament of the body!



CLXIV


Holy Spirit in the sacrament of the body,

Thy radiance shines in God's darkness!

I see the beauty of the most beautiful woman

In my city of Aphroditopolis!


It is Panspermia, the world potency,

The absolute ideal of beauty.

Harmonious is the transparency of the body

And reveals primordial beauty. I must groan,


When I see the flawless spouse of my soul,

The beauty of God as a woman harmonious,

I call this divine beauty Goddess,

Whether the priest only smiles ironically.


You, Goddess, you are in beauty's dress

The epitome of loveliness to me.



CLXV


For me the epitome of loveliness

Is Our Lady, the Queen of Love.

Thine, my wife, am I for time and eternity,

Thou comforter, when I am greatly deceived.


Sublime Lady and Sovereign, come now

And help me in patience to bear my sorrow,

Affliction makes the faithful prayerful,

I can always complain to the Great Mother.


You refuge of the beautiful sinners,

That God's motherly love gives,

I will mourn for God's motherly love

On earth and one day in the Father's house.


O God's love in the form of a woman!

Holy Spirit in the sacrament of the body!



CLXVI


You Holy Spirit in the sacrament of the bBody,

Mary, today I saw in a dream

The corpse of a well-beloved woman,

Laid out in bed in the cold room,


I stood by, holding on to my right hand

My darling, who was his mother's darling,

Who had gone home to God's country,

Holy water I stroked through her brown hair.


O what sorrow! And o how many crosses!

Mourning in the evening and mourning in the morning!

I look to you, I see your charms,

Thy charms like a shiver run through me.


My paradise of honey and milk,

Thou hast led me to God as my Mother.



CLXVII


You led me to God as my Mother,

So I became a motherly father,

I sucked on your bosom, white as milk,

You gave me love, O Magna Mater!


So I had love for the young boy,

I David, he my dearest Jonathan,

How we have become warm friends,

I felt it yesterday on a dark path.


We Kinonites saw the battle of good,

The suffering of Christ and the beautiful lady,

The hero we saw bleed for all

And cat-goddess was the fair one's name.


You, divinity, appeared to me in the light of the body,

Thou, Caritas, in the form of a woman.



CLXVIII


You, Caritas, in the form of a woman,

Thou didst call the girlfriend-mother from the earth,

The soul fled from the dungeon of the body,

So that the soul may soon be deified.


All of a sudden a turn, a turn,

An angelic being kissed her, a chaste one,

Now she goes towards resurrection

And divine immortalisation of the flesh.


O Mother Caritas, you red rose,

Mercy, boundless ocean,

Protect her friend from psychosis,

Desolate grief so often leads to madness.


Mary, you take up the girlfriend-mother,

O paradise of honey and milk.



CLXIX


You paradise of honey and milk,

You protector of life, you white rose,

I see you at mass, Mother of God,

Immaculate, immaculate, immaculate.


Death is dark, O Morenita,

But you give birth to the soul in life.

Thou art the dawn, Indianita,

Thou wilt lift the soul to heaven.


Thou art still the queen,

The Queen of the heavens and the earths,

Who are true Christians, as I am myself,

To be led by thee to the Judge God?


I love thee, despite the Lutheran mockery,

Thou sacrament of God's motherly love!



CLXX


Thou sacrament of God's motherly love,

Thou cedar of Mount Lebanon,

I will love you in spite of fundamentalist mockery,

I love thee, Great Mother with the Son.


I sing sacred songs to Astarte

And to Our Lady of Cedar Mountain.

For your holy apparition I wait,

Patiently I do my work for thee.


O Goddess of Syria, O give hereafter

Victory to the Middle East of thy heart,

Triumph of the Immaculate Heart, peace,

End the Muslim fratricidal war!


Is Jesus tender? O, you are fond of us,

Sacrament of the Lord's tenderness!



CLXXI


You sacrament of the Lord's tenderness,

When I was converted to Christ

I received the wormwood's bitter star,

The pains of hell were God's gift.


That I did not know, that out of Jesus sprang,

That therefore, O Lord, you hang on the cross,

That I myself must walk through hell,

In hell's agony and in hell's fear.


Yes, Satan has sent his shadows,

Then I saw darkly on the rough way

The beasts of hell go about like rats,

The evil one drove me to suicide and madness!


O Godhead, in spite of the wrath of God's fury,

I honour the Mother of Jesus in spite of mockery.



CLXXII


I honour the Mother of Jesus in spite of mockery,

Whether I was still earthly like Protestants,

I believed in God's motherly love,

Whether Protestants confessed it or not.


As a Protestant I walked on this earth,

Gladly in the Protestant church.

A black sheep in the stray flock,

As a singer I fought God's enemies.


For five years I was earthly minded,

Until God sent me his spirit's tinder.

What is the church without the Madonna?

There is no angel and there is no miracle.


To bear the cross even with my Lord,

So you taught me, beautiful morning star.



CLXXIII


So you taught me, beautiful morning star,

That I might be purified even in life,

So you gave me the Lord's crucifixion

And Christ's abandonment from God.


The Carmel life is an adventure,

One suffers even the Gospel.

Mary led me through purgatory,

On earth already in Purgatory.


Revelation speaks of the constellation Wormwood,

The bitterness I have tasted deep,

And penance I did in the night of gloom

And suffered my atonement depressed.


Though my impulses were still so cynical,

I praise thee as queen of love.



CLXXIV


I praise you as queen of love

And speak of Dame World only ironically.

The angels robbed me as a soul thief

And so I only look platonically


To the spirits in the spiritual throng

And see the pure ideal of beauty

And live blissfully in the heaven of ideas

With the Madonna in the hall of ideas.


Platonic Madonna, Truth, Goodness, Beauty,

You absolute beauty all harmonious,

In the mirror I see the absolute

Primal beauty as my ideal platonic.


Madonna, goddess you, I am your hero,

You who gave birth to God's chaste Love.



CLXXV


You who gave birth to God's chaste Eros

And overcoming vice through virtue,

What a heroic hero I was

And struggled much in my wild youth.


I had ideals, false though they were,

I believed in humanity, in the masses,

Full of passion for what seemed true to me,

How strong in love and how strong in hate.


The pessimism of old age,

The World-weary evening knowledge of God,

They paralyse me, and weary apathy,

Only wearily I still sigh my confession.


Madonna, immaculate love of youth,

I serve you with my deepest impulse.



CLXXVI


I serve you with my deepest instincts,

I do not serve the displeased women,

To the spotless I give my love,

To you I give my sacrifice, my duty.


To strive only for self-realisation,

That is a life-weary egoism.

Self-denial is the true life,

It is Christian golden mysticism.


The wisdom of a man makes shine

And not the brazen impudence of his face.

The ideal of all ideals

Is God's glory and dark light,


Whereof thou shinest, birth-giver of Eros!

You are the goddess and I am your hero.



CLXXVII


You are the goddess and I am your hero,

But I am under the shadow of death,

To death a heavy Eros draws me,

In death to be married to my wife.


Today I was at my girlfriend's grave. I suffer,

Because she is gone from our scene,

So on her grave bed I plant purple heather,

Which bears the name of divine Athena.


So I plant white heather on her grave,

Which bears the name of the chaste Madonna.

I have silently prayed for my girlfriend,

God will one day raise her flesh.


I consecrate my girlfriend to you, woman of delights,

Queen of love in the dress of the sun.



CLXXVIII


Queen of love in the dress of the sun,

The dead girlfriend's birthday is coming up.

She has begun a new life now

In paradise, in Eden's forest of life.


And when I must die and return home,

So, Jesus, come to me as a little boy,

To the boy Jesus I consecrate my fairest rhyme,

He pulls me out of my grave.


My Grandmother and my girlfriend too

Then greet me at the gates of heaven.

Mary I call with my last breath,

Mary is my Madame La Mort!


I want to see you in the heavenly sun,

Thou superwoman, thou delight of all delights!



CLXXIX


You superwoman, you delight of all delights,

In you I will awake, my paradise,

My new life is begun in you,

Virgin Mary, kind and mild and sweet.


Come to me in the grave hour of death

And steal my spirit with a kiss,

Yes, I want to die at your mouth,

You lead me to divine delight.


This existence in the womb was a burden,

I cast it off and spread my wings,

I was an unloved guest in Eden,

Mary welcomes me on Sion's hill.


To you my eternity, idea of woman,

Holy Ghost in the sacrament of the body!



CLXXX


Holy Spirit in the sacrament of the body,

You led me to God as my mother,

Thou, Caritas, in the form of a woman,

You paradise of honey and milk.


You sacrament of God's motherly love,

Sacrament of the Lord's tenderness,

Mother Jesus I honour in spite of mockery,

So you taught me, beautiful morning star.


I praise you as the Queen of Love,

You who gave birth to God's chaste Eros,

I serve you with my deepest urges,

You are the goddess and I am your hero.


You queen of love in the dress of the sun,

Thou superwoman, thou delight of all delights!



CLXXXI


Thou superwoman, thou delight of all delights,

I saw my dead girlfriend's love nest,

Where once we began to love,

Celebrating sweet love's feast.


There we have, as God devised,

Practised love in all its art,

The fountain-steeple dipped in the fountain,

When in youthful folly we loved each other.


Now she is dead, who still the communion

Received to nod blissfully smiling.

Hail Jesus Christ, true Son of God,

I may one day behold my girlfriend transfigured!


Make me blessed one day in paradise,

Virgin of all virgins, as honey sweet!



CLXXXII


Virgin of all virgins, sweet as honey,

You are the mother of Tom and Juri,

The mother of Milan, my paradise,

I saw today the celestial city full of Houris!


The girls carried on gazelle legs,

All their sweet womanhood walking,

They all God's beauty resist

In their adornments ornate.


O what a paradise! I dumbly must look,

If one comes to nod me graciously.

By the element! O loveliness of young women!

I would forever behold such splendour!


That seems to me the highest of all delights,

Sublime queen with the crown of life.



CLXXXIII


Sublime queen with at the crown of life,

I saw the widow who mourned for her husband,

She cried out to thee, O delight of all delights,

When in her depression she despaired.


The widow's bedchamber was full of icons,

Virgin Mother of God, stand by her,

She wanted to live near to you,

Even in October after the Maye of bliss.


Renew the dead husband in God

And hear his widow's supplication,

Lead him through purgatory,

Till he stand before his Lord and Saviour.


Be good to the dead and sweet to the widow,

Queen of love in paradise!



CLXXXIV


Thou queen of love in paradise,

The vain world is an illusion,

And my self too, bitter more than sweet,

And also my I is nothing but mockery and scorn.


My I and this earth is of evil,

A mere whimpering after the wind and vain delusion,

And I only desire to dissolve myself

In God, the ocean of beautiful love!


God I look upon as my faithful rock,

God is, otherwise all else is a delusion,

I wish only to merge with my God,

A drop in the ocean of love!


Then Jesus be praised as a person

By the holy virgins all above.



CLXXXV


The holy virgins all above

Worship God of kind and man of kind,

The cherubim and seraphins praise,

Now from this chorus comes Hildegard


And speaks of the Mother Caritas,

Who lies loving in the marriage bed of God!

The Mother loves her without ceasing,

In spite of all the monks' vexation and bishops' scorn.


O Magna Mater Caritas, have mercy,

O Mother, have mercy with thy little son!

I want to rest in your mother's arms,

Protect me from the mockery and scorn of the enemy.


I will speak in the spirit of God's love,

Honour the princess in the garden of Eden.



CLXXXVI


Honour the princess in the garden of Eden,

Mary I will honour as an Indian,

Of God's motherly love I will speak,

Loving Mary, we are all her children.


O great is God's love for the little ones,

God loves me too in my dark melancholy,

I will shine forth from the light of God,

Yet not as a hero, but full of humility.


The little children shouted: Hosanna,

Blessed is he who comes in the name of God,

And spiritually the Lord gives me Jesus' manna,

The Corpus Christi gladdens my heart.


I want to go up there with all the putti

To praise the Queen of Paradise!



CLXXXVII


To praise the Queen of Paradise,

I doit with my consecration: I your slave,

You my mother in heaven above,

I salute you and your boy: Hail!


I will consecrate to thee my little Milan

And I will consecrate to thee my little Tom,

I love them as if they were Jesus,

I see the baby Jesus in them piously.


May my dead girlfriend be entrusted to you,

Guardian angel may she be to me in thy grace,

You prepare for her the bride's dress,

To enter the celestial city of white jade.


The girlfriend shall live in the Garden of Eden

And speak full of grace to the confessors.



CLXXXVIII


And full of grace talk with the confessors

Will in the night the fairest of all ladies,

So Hermann once heard her weeping

And bent lovingly to the lame man.


And his mother said to the poor cripple,

When no one in the world likes you any more,

When they all beat you with a cudgel

And thy soul is full of suffering,


One will love thee: The Queen,

The Queen of Heaven loves you with all her heart,

And though I am parted from thee,

Mary is with thee in thy sorrows.


So pray to the mother with the boy,

Who suffered martyrdom.



CLXXXIX


Who have suffered martyrdom,

Who look to Our Lady of Sorrows,

The sweet Mediatrix of the sweet graces

Has love in her Immaculate Heart.


Mary speaks, Infinite as the sea

Are my sorrows, are not to be spoken!

How cruel is the world with its army,

They all only want to break my heart!


I am silenced by unspeakable pain,

Now no one on earth loves me!

The darling who used to hum so sweetly,

Has gone with the wolves' flock.


My little rose will blossom after my death,

The chaste white and the bloody red.



CXC


The chaste white and the bloody red

My heart has suffered martyrdom.

Now I long for my early death,

That God may soon deliver me from my pain.


The boastful proud, arrogant

And pompous boaster be damned

To hell as it is fixed by Dante,

So unforgiving my vengeance flames!


That they have wrought, that now my darling,

My darling, have so entirely forgotten me!

There is no more room in his heart for me,

The only one who loved me, the dearest boy!


The dead are alright, thanks to God's gifts,

They rest with the woman and her boy.



CXCI


They rest with the woman and her boy,

They rest under the Madonna's mantle,

Where my eyes have seen them,

Immortalised I see their way of life.


I see under the mantle Aphrodite,

The naked flesh of the city-known strumpet,

Who bloomed on the foam of the sea of lust

With unrepentant brazen whore's forehead.


I see beneath the cloak the skeleton,

The whole limb structure, the skull,

The dust in his deepest burial bed,

The dust, that was once a fair maiden.


But at midnight the angel messenger spoke,

Every dead person praises the Queen of Heaven.



CXCII


Every dead person praises the Queen of Heaven

And all the living praise Our Lady.

The love of God comes to us in the bread,

God the Father I behold in a cloudy vision.


Even if my darling no longer loves me

And my friend no longer speaks to me,

God the Father gives me his love

And lets himself be seen in the light of revelation.


God the Father says,: And do you remain faithful to me,

Even though you suffer in the dark night?

In your love, Abba, I rejoice,

Even in tears my soul laughs.


The creator of comets and suns

The poets praise blissfully full of delight.



CXCIII


The poets praise blissfully full of delights

Lady Wisdom, who reveals herself in play.

This universe began in children's play,

Lady Wisdom waits enticingly also at the goal.


Mary, your eyes hypnotise me,

Enchant me when I suffer in the night.

My darling has gone! But now comes

Mary, who in my dream kindled me.


I am all yours with my solar plexus,

All thine with my sexuality,

Erotic Madonna, with the sexus

Am all thine and my moaning prayer.


In my Eros glows the delight,

The primordial Madonna of all the Madonnas.



CXCIV


The primordial Madonna of all the Madonnas

Calls me up to new levels of life,

It began with Bach's Magnificat,

I heard God's beauty calling me.


Wisdom I will cultivate like a game,

Like wise men in celibacy,

The knowledge of God is my highest aim,

So I sing the Magnificat in a drunken way.


Is God's paradise like La France?

I dream of paradise in dreams,

As love puts me in the deepest trance,

The sheer beauty emerges from sea foam.


With you eternity has begun for me,

You superwoman, you delight of all delights!



CXCIX


Thou super-woman, thou delight of all delights,

You virgin of all virgins, as honey sweet,

Sublime queen with the crown of life,

Queen of love in paradise!


The holy virgins all above

Honour the princess in the Garden of Eden,

They paise the Queen of Paradise

And speak full of grace to the confessors,


Who have suffered martyrdom,

The chaste white and the bloody red,

Who rest with the woman and her boy.

Every dead person praises the Queen of Heaven.


The poets praise blissfully, full of delights,

The primordial Madonna of all Madonnas!



CC


The original Madonna of all Madonnas,

In a holy and chaste way she is coquettish,

For clothed only in the light of the sun

In paradise she lies in the bed.


O mercy, save me from this body,

Pull me up to Paradise's delight,

That I may lie in Mary's arms

And rest blissfully on her bare breasts!


In the bed of Our Lady I lie,

I lie blissfully in paradise at last

And nestle closer and closer to the Lady,

Virgin intact, kind and mild and sweet,


And drink God's delight from her bosom!

She is at the same time the Muse of all muses.



CCI


She is also the Muse of all muses,

Gives me a song such as no one has sung before!

O Mater Caritas, at your bosom

I sing drunkenly blissful songs!


O Caritas, in the marriage bed of God,

How you spread your mother's breasts full of milk!

With thee united I will, in spite of mockery,

Blissfully enjoy all God's pleasures!


With a fidelity firm as a rock,

I will recognise the divinity I see as female,

Recognise, will merge with Caritas

And live with the divinity in marriage.


Mary has begun the hymn of praise,

She inspires and is the brunette of the artist.



CCII


She inspires and is the source of the arts

And gives the beauty of poetic clarity,

The ideal of the lovely Madonnas

Reveals to me the femininity of truth.


O divine one, O sovereign, only behold,

I want to see you naked, despite all my enemies,

I can no longer trust in beautiful women,

Believe no more in children and no more in friends.


Thou, Divinity, Mistress, hast revealed thyself,

In thy womanhood so fair and bare,

Thou lov'st me, though my beard be silver-grey,

Thou lovest me from my mother's womb.


Mary is the mother of all the muses

And poets all drink from her bosom.



CCIII


And poets all drink from her bosom

And angels serve her as altar boys.

To me she is the Muse of all my muses,

The angels praise aloud the unknown.


O Raphael, thou art drawn with me,

O Gabriel, you are called God's strength,

O Michael, you drew the sword,

I am a warrior full of passion.


Archangel mine, when you now go to bed,

I bless you and wish you sweet dreams,

Archangel mine, save me from grief,

Now walk blissfully through the starry spaces.


Mary loosens the fetters of sorrow!

How inspiring is Mary's cauldron!



CCIV


How inspiring is Mary‘s cauldron,

How inspiring is the pious nun,

Lady Wisdom sits in her chair teaching,

Listening to her, it's a delight.


Bred of serpents ye and brood of vipers,

You city-swelling harlots, archly coquettish,

You torment the pious man to the blood

And then say with a smile, Oh, you are nice!


Mary, deliver me from the serpent,

You are the serpent's fiend,

You alone I praise in song

And sing to you new love songs.


Your bridegroom is the spirit of sympathy,

From whom we draw all prophecy.



CCV


From whom we draw all prophecy,

The spirit, he is Mary's bridegroom,

He purrs where he will, full of sympathy,

In every ancient people, in every tribe.


The ancients once dreamed of Nuth and Hathor,

Of Ishtar and Astarte and Inanna.

Mary bore us the Pantocrator,

She is the tabernacle, he the manna.


The Star Maiden and the Sun Mother

Is she, is the God-bearer.

She is the paradise of cream and honey

And remains so despite the Protestant mockery.


Mary is the chair of God's wisdom,

She loosens the bondage of the passions.



CCVI


She loosens the bondage of the passions

And the desire-obsessed she frees.

She is the golden chair of God's wisdom,

He who is wise by the grace of God, frees her.


The Protestants have driven her away,

There went the mother away, but with the son.

One cannot love the son more or better,

If you pour scorn on the mother.


Mary said to the Protestants,

You don't want me? I will go! But I have taken

God, the unknown, with me,

My beloved boy goes with me!


Worship Mary without apathy!

She gives us a pure sympathy.



CCVII


She gives us a pure sympathy,

Lady Wisdom thus gave to Socrates,

The epitome of Greek philosophy,

The pleasure of the beautiful Alcibiades.


Thus Aristotle before his death

Once more saw the beauty in the myths,

So Thomas, when he broke his last bread,

The spirits glowed to him for love songs.


The wise man turns to beauty,

Veiled truth is pious beauty.

So I in apathy and peace of mind

Have sung the dear boy Tom.


Or else only the deeply afflicted still loves

The teacher of love, the beloved.



CCVIII


The teacher of love, the beloved,

Explain the teaching to me in more detail:

Let the deeply afflicted marry himself to the cross,

To the crucified in his sorrow.


Become co-redeemer with the Redeemer,

He who offers up his sufferings to the Lord.

When the arrow whizzes into your soul,

So will you soar with the morning star.


Mary is the Coredemptrix,

The Pope proclaims this as a new dogma.

Sophia is the world‘s redeemer,

The only redeemer is Sophia.


The Aphrodite mine of Paphos,

I will sing her, my Diotima.



CCIX


I will sing her, my Diotima,

Who has become my beloved,

The Aphrodite of Paphos,

The Immaculate Virgin of Lourdes.


Lourdes is a small town in the south of France,

The pearls rattled of the rosary,

There I see beautiful young girls,

See Sulamith in the splendour of her dance.


I praise the mother of Jesus of Nazareth,

I praise the young beauty Bernardette,

From Rome to Lourdes came the young Venus,

Oh, that I might make love with her!


I praise only the eternal beloved,

I praise the consolatrix of the deeply afflicted.



CCX


I praise the consolatrix of the deeply afflicted:

Love has died in the boy!

He was the beloved, the much beloved,

Whom the judges have taken away from me!


Remember, Lord, remember these judges

And do not forget the injustice,

That I must suffer, thy psalmist,

Who beseeches thee for all-mercifulness.


Remember, O Lord, remember also the old

Soothsayer, the handmaid of Hecate,

Who tormented me so with her cold

Stone-hard heart and gives me woe.


I only love - the advice Diotima gave -

The queen of love of Paphos.



CCXI


The Queen of Love of Paphos

Sits meditating in the silent chamber.

Then the angel enters, intimate with her,

And asks her,: Young woman, with all this misery,


Say, will you give your yes to the Creator?

Then calls the world, the underworld, the heavens:

Open your womb to the Lord! Life

Depends on it! In thronging throng


The creatures all plead:

O open thy womb to the God and Lord!

Say yes to the Lord in deep sympathy,

Thy yes-word moan, O Virgin Morning Star!


I saw this today in a visionary vision.

What shall I seek but the blue flower?



CCXII


What shall I seek but the blue flower?

Whom else do I see but Lilith, at night in a dream?

All white with large breasts stands the woman,

With red curls she emerges from the foam.


From whom then come all my woes?

From the demon Lilith comes my woe!

When will God separate me from the demoness,

Who I see so naked in my dreams?


O long red curls, white breasts,

The curls flow around the peach cheek!

O naked breasts, the epitome of lust,

The naked woman is embraced by the serpent!


No, I no longer trust the demoness.

Whom shall I sing but Our Lady?



CCXIII


Whom shall I sing but Our Lady?

There is no woman like you on earth!

The handmaid of the Lord, whom I see in the spirit,

She opens for us the door to the kingdom of heaven.


The Virgin, our Father's daughter, looks,

The Mother of Jesus looks at you, Mary,

The Lady, the Spirit's spotless bride,

Mary, the created Sophia!


O Virgin, you alone will I woo!

O Lady, your yes-word you gave to me!

To the Great Mother I will consecrate all!

The whole universe I consecrate to thee!


Blessed be the sun of all suns,

The primordial Madonna of all Madonnas!



CCXIV


The primordial Madonna of all Madonnas,

She is also the Muse of all the muses,

She inspires and is the fountain of the arts

And poets all drink from her bosom.


How inspiring is Mary's cauldron,

From which we draw all prophecy!

She loosens the fetters of the passions,

She gives us a pure sympathy.


The teacher of love, the beloved,

I will sing, my Diotima,

I praise the consolatrix of the deeply afflicted,

The queen of love of Paphos.


What shall I seek but the blue flower?

Whom shall I sing but Our Lady?



CCXV


WHOM SHALL I SING BUT OUR LADY?

YOU ARE MY HOPE, SWEETNESS AND LIFE!

I OFTEN LOOK AT YOU IN VISIONARY GAZE,

I SEE YOU SMILING, FLOATING ON THE CLOUD!


IN EVERY WOMAN'S LIGHT I SEE YOUR LIGHT,

IN EVERY BEAUTY YOUR BEAUTY GLOWS.

YOU, GOD'S FEMININE FACE,

YOUR SMILE BLOOMS FOR ME IN EVERY BLOSSOM!


WORLD SOUL YOU ARE TO ME FROM ETERNITY,

PRE-EXISTENT IDEAL OF WOMAN,

TO ME THE EPITOME OF LOVELINESS,

YOU HOLY SPIRIT IN THE SACRAMENT OF THE BODY!


YOU SUPER-WOMAN, YOU DELIGHT OF ALL JOYS,

THOU PRIMORDIAL MADONNA OF ALL MADONNAS!