THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON


BY TORSTEN SCHWANKE



How did the rose obtain the noble diploma of beauty? 

The Creator Himself conferred 

The Nobility Diploma of Beauty on Evi! 

The nobility of the divine Sophia 

Is a divine nobility, 

For she is one with God! 

Mistress, your most humble servant desires 

To praise you for the miracles and signs 

That occurred when you attained 

The Nobility Diploma of Wisdom! 

I sing this in four cantos, 

The first canto sings of your studies, 

The second canto of your theorising, 

The third canto of your written work, 

The fourth canto of your oral presentation.



CANTO I


May has come! 

May is the month of Mary 

And the moon of love! 

Mistress, how I must miss you in May! 

You sit over your books 

And study Pythagoras, Plotinus, 

Hermes Trismegistos, 

You study in the libraries of Atlantis and Alexandria. 

But I am employed as your servant 

To look after and feed your little son. 

I know well that you conceived him virginally 

In Advent four years ago. 

My spirit was the procreator 

Who begetteth in the womb of your beauty. 

You are the Psyche, 

And your Son is Imago Dei, 

Your Son is a theophany, 

You are the Madonna, 

Your Son is the Child Jesus. 

Four years old is the baby Jesus. 

We live here in the Athens of the North, 

Athena, the goddess of wisdom, 

Looks down at us from all the palaces, 

And from many a balcony Cupid looks down, 

The little rogue Eros! 

Tom, named after Saint Thomas, 

The apostle of the Indians and Chinese, 

And the angelic Thomas, 

The greatest philosopher of the Middle Ages, 

Tom was led around by me 

In the Athens of the North. 

First we went on a pilgrimage to St Mary's Church, 

Lit candles before the great Mother of Sorrows 

For Tom's soul and then sat on the three steps 

Before the Blessed Sacrament, 

Where Jesus is present in the flesh! 

Then we sought out the museum, 

And what did we see there? 

The crown of Emperor Frederick II, 

At whose court the sonnet was invented, 

The sonnet in which form Petrarch 

Made his Donna Laura immortal. 

Golden crown with rubies and white pearls. 

We saw the emperor's falcons, 

We saw the peacock and the bird of paradise. 

In the basement of the museum 

We saw the heavenly Jerusalem, 

A city made entirely of gold and glass and precious stones. 

Crystal and jasper and sapphire and emerald 

And amethyst and all the precious stones 

Of the heavenly Jerusalem were gathered here, 

And it was the emperor's treasure. 

Then we sought out the prince in his castle.

We first prayed in the monastery 

And looked at St. Catharine and St. Margaret 

And St. Barbara (CMB), 

We looked at the Mother of Sorrows 

Wwith the dead Son of God on her lap, 

The baptismal font, the incense burner 

And the priest's vestments. 

Then we marvelled at the knight's armour and the lances. 

In the prince's living room we marvelled 

At the beauty of the goddess of beauty Venus 

With her little child Cupid. 

Look, Tom, I said, the little Cupid is you, 

And Venus there is Evi! 

Then we went to the canal by the castle park 

And rowed along the canal, 

Accompanied by the water birds 

With their beautiful necks. 

But when I was alone in my hermit's cell, 

I complained to Mary: 

Oh, Mary, it's May, 

And my maiden is not chatting with me in the garden! 

What kind of love‘s may is it 

Without a dame of love, O Madonna? 

I miss her so sorely! 

O Mary, you are a stern mistress! 

You take me into the strictest monastic discipline, 

Into the discipline of the Carmelite Order, 

The strictest and most ascetic of all orders, 

And teach me the science of the cross, 

The mysticism of the vicarious sufferings 

For the redemption of humanity, 

The mysticism of the atoning souls 

Who offer up all their sufferings to God 

In order to console Christ's heart and save souls! 

Austere Mistress, it is May, 

Nature is like a Garden of Eden, 

And I am locked up in the darkest 

And most naked convent cell, 

Meditating only on the bloody Christ on the Cross! 

O Madonna, Lady of Wisdom, 

What kind of May is this? 

Outside, paradise smiles, but without Eve, 

Paradise is no paradise for Adam! 

Madonna, shall Adam occupy himself 

With philosophy in the midst 

Of the glory of Paradise? 

Shall I study Asian philosophy in the may of love? 

Save the wisdom of Lao Tse and Kung Fu Tse 

For autumn and winter, Madonna, 

But in the may of love give me my paradise wife! 

So I prayed, but the stern mistress 

Would not be entreatied. 

Instead of joking with the Madonna Venus, 

However, I joked with her son, 

The little boy Amor-Jesus! 

He played Pharaoh, 

Because Pharaoh is all made of gold 

And lives in a huge pyramid. 

Oh, Evi, you are Pharaoh's daughter, 

Whom Solomon loved, 

But I was tending little Tom, 

Who was playing Pharaoh. 

But in the midst of the game 

The Holy Spirit fell upon Tom, 

And while I was sorrowfully pining after the beloved, 

Tom began to prophesy, 

And I heard the voice of my Lord and God, 

The Little Jesus, speaking to me: 

What mournest thou? 

The almighty princess loves you, 

She has told you that she loves you boundlessly! 

You are married to the almighty princess of the sun! 

And who are you? 

You are the king of the sea! 

Just rest, I alone will conquer all enemies for you, 

You don't need to do anything, 

I'll do everything all by myself! 

Thus said the Little Jesus to me, 

And a smile appeared on my face. 

Verily, verily, out of the mouths of babes and sucklings 

God prepares praise! 

The mouths of babes speak truth! 

But now Mary also spoke to me. 

She had been silent for a long time, 

But had listened attentively to my poems. 

She always thanked me so politely and warmly 

For my love poems to her. 

Now she began to write her own poems:


The angels in their splendour

Are with you winter and summer, day and night!


They have grown in the earthly paradise,

The roses in the garden,

They are to be expected in summer.


Virgin Mary.


So, Madonna, I had to learn patience, 

In summer comes the time of roses, 

The time of love and beauty! 

You promised it! 

And never do you lie 

And never do you disappoint the one 

Who loves you unspeakably!



CANTO II


Lady, I will sing of your theory 

Of sacred architecture. 

Theoria, after all, means God-view! 

You had the visions, the hunches, 

Intuitively you recognised everything, 

But you could not put it into words. 

I can put it into words, 

God has given me this gift. 

A ninety-year-old Carmelite once wrote to me 

From the Edith Stein Carmel, 

The Lord has given you the gift 

Of putting mystical experiences into words. 

Thank the Lord for that! 

I thank the Lord and thank the love of God 

Tthat I may now serve my mistress 

With this gift of grace. 

I don't want to talk about how in eternity 

The Eternal Father puts Himself into words in the Son, 

Because the Son is the Word, 

The unfathomable source of the Godhead 

Puts Himself into words in the begotten Son, 

That is the Logos, the Word, 

The meaning, the reason of the world, 

And between the source and the Word 

Tthere is divine love, 

That is the Holy Spirit, divine love. 

But I wanted to sing about your theoria, 

Which began with God's act of creation. 

There you unfolded the doctrine of creation 

Acording to Plotinus. 

Mistress, I praised you before the Virgin Mary 

And said to Mary: Mistress! 

Do you see my mistress Evi? 

She is studying the Neoplatonism of Plotinus! 

Look around you, Lady Mary, 

If you see a woman on earth like my Lady Evi 

Who studies Plotinus! 

I know of none, Mistress Mary, 

Like my Mistress Evi! 

And I love her so much for that too! 

For the world came forth from the One, 

In that the Divine Spirit begat in the world-soul. 

The world soul, however, governs the universe. 

The world soul, Anima Mundi, 

I the divine wisdom that governs the universe. 

The power effects of the divine wisdom 

Are the energies of the Holy Spirit. 

The energies of the Holy Spirit are power currents 

Of the green power of love, 

Which harmoniously rule in the order of God's creation. 

Man of the archaic past lived subconsciously 

Like a child in the womb of Mother Nature 

And worshipped Mother Nature 

As Great Mother and Great Goddess. 

In ancient times, man learned to control 

The forces of nature 

And to make them serve him. 

Among the Hebrews, Jacob's ladder to heaven 

Was such a connection between heaven and earth, 

And Jacob also erected a stone on the spot 

Where he had seen heaven open 

And poured anointing oil over the stone. 

The prophet Ezekiel also saw the heavens open 

And saw the four cherubim carrying 

The throne chariot of God. 

The Kabbalah speaks of this. 

Moses looked at the Promised Land on Mount Nebo, 

Where milk and honey flow, 

But he was not allowed to enter! 

Do you know, Evi, how often I have felt 

That I am Moses, that you are the Promised Land, 

Where milk and honey flow, 

I look at it and am not allowed to enter! 

But Ezekiel saw in visions the future temple 

That John saw in the Apocalypse 

As the heavenly Jerusalem, 

The cube city, 

The Phoenix City at the end of the Milky Way, 

As the Chinese poet called it. 

But the true Axis Mundi is in the Church 

Of the Holy Sepulchre and Resurrection of Christ. 

Then the Roman Catholic cathedral building began. 

The cathedral was the earthly image, 

The heavenly Jerusalem was the heavenly archetype. 

The great glory of the earthly image 

Makes one shudder with delight, 

Foreseeing the unspeakable glories 

Of the heavenly eternal archetype, 

The city of eternal paradise! 

The holy city of the Roman Catholic Middle Ages 

Is an image of Christ on the Cross. 

Everything is governed by the harmonious laws 

Of number and measure. 

The number is everywhere 

The Pythagorean number, 

Which is the expression of the music of heaven. 

The holy city is music, 

The cathedral is music, music, 

That is a cathedral spiritually 

Built in invisible spaces. 

O Chartres! That was my magic word. 

I only had to say Chartres 

And I saw your beauty, your wisdom, 

I saw the musical cathedral, 

I heard the angels of the spheres singing beautifully! 

What is the sanctuary for which 

Chartres Cathedral was built? 

It is the dress of the Virgin Mary 

Which she wore at Christmas in Bethlehem! 

Chartres, my dear! 

I am spellbound by the labyrinth of Chartres! 

Chartres was built on the foundation stones 

Of Pythagoras and Saint Augustine, 

It is music made of stone 

In honour of the Virgin Mary! 

Kissing the hem of her dress reverently, 

A cosmos of singing stones was built! 

O most blessed Virgin Mary! 

Chartres! O beautiful and beloved Evi! 

From Chartres your theoria leads 

Through the philosophy of the Occident, 

The modern philosophy of German idealism 

Up to our time, since natural science 

Borders on divine wisdom! 

When you speak of the places of power, 

Of the sacred places, 

I think of the word of my dear holy father 

John Paul the Great, 

I will traverse the earth 

With a geology of prayer, 

The spiritual capitals of the world 

Are the places of pilgrimage of the Virgin Mary 

On all continents! 

Do you know, beloved Lady, 

Hw I fared when you visited me at midnight 

For common spiritual work? 

I awaited you with joyful longing 

And waited for the stroke of midnight, 

Praying. I prayed the rosary 

And asked Mary to draw the Holy Spirit down upon us. 

Then, with these two eyes of mine, 

I saw Mary, her image as Rosa Mystica, 

As a mystical rose. 

Her image was woven in a holy veil. 

Her figure was young and slender, 

She wore a long white dress with golden embroidery 

And a golden belt around her waist. 

On her right breast arched the white rose of Mary's joys, 

Between her two breasts, in the valley of her breasts, 

Arched the red rose of Mary's sorrows, 

And on her left breast over her heart 

Arched the golden rose of Mary's glory. 

Her face was perfectly beautiful 

And sweetly feminine. 

But from her large warm eyes flowed tears of blood! 

The red drops of tears flowed down her cheeks 

And over the dress and dripped onto her folded hands 

And continued to flow over the golden belt of loveliness 

Into her lap. 

Then with these two eyes of mine I saw Mary, 

Her statue, she was a young girl 

Of seventeen or twenty-two 

And wore a white dress, 

She was the mystic rose, 

And from her eyes dripped tears of blood, 

And from her forehead milk and honey came out 

As sweat and ran down the figure. 

The milk and honey of the heavenly Mother 

Was collected by Indian priests in a silver bowl. 

Truly Mary is the Promised Land of milk and honey. 

Then you came, beloved Evi! 

Your shirt was wet from the rain, 

You took it off 

And stood before me in a white vest, 

Then you wrapped yourself in sheep's wool. 

You sat on my sofa and studied, 

I served you as your secretary. 

You sat in the seat of wisdom 

And I sat in the apostolic chair. 

You dictated to me 

And I put it into beautiful words. 

And that is to write poetry and to be a poet, 

Because writing poetry comes from dictating, 

And it is the Muse who dictates 

Ad the poet who writes poetry. 

Muse of mystical wisdom, 

You dictated and I wrote down as your secretary. 

Then I stepped out onto the balcony 

And looked up at the starry sky. 

Orion and the Big Dipper 

Of Our Lady's mantle of stars 

Floated through the dark night 

As Our Lady's protective mantle. 

I looked through the window from the balcony 

Into the light-filled hermit's cell and saw, 

And behold, I don't know how, 

There sat not my Lady Evi, 

There sat my Lady, the Virgin of Guadelupe, 

Reading in a book. 

Visitation of the Madonna at midnight! 

Then I gave you, my Lady Evi, 

My translation of a verse 

From the Proverbs of Solomon: 

Sophia speaks: 

At Creation, I was with Him as His architect and favourite, 

I was His voluptuousness every day 

And always joked with Him! 

I jested in the world of the earth 

And had my lust for the sons of Adam!

(Proverbs 8:30,31).



CANTO III


I saw with these two eyes of mine 

The Virgin Mary, a tall woman 

In a long blue cloak studded with golden stars. 

In her left hand she held a burning torch. 

She smiled at me and said to me,

My bridegroom, I rejoice in the sacrifice of thanksgiving 

You bring me, and I beg you: Continue! 

So I will tell you, dear Evi, 

About a wonderful night. 

Those were the days when you were to present 

Your written work on architecture 

To the chair for examination. 

You asked me to come to you in the evening 

And to help you as a scribe. 

It is a great honour for me 

To be able to express my great love to you 

Tthrough humble services of deed! 

We worked and wrote all night. 

You had hardly slept for many nights 

And had reached the limit of your strength. 

Three hours after midnight 

You lay down in your bed for an hour to sleep 

And to get new strength through holy sleep. 

I sat down at the door of your house 

And prayed the rosary for you: 

Hail Mary, full of grace! 

The Lord is with you! 

Blessed art thou among women, 

And blessed is the fruit of thy womb: Jesus! 

Holy Mary, Mother of God, 

Pray for us poor sinners, 

Now and at the hour of our death! Amen. 

You know, Evi, for a long time I prayed 

This Hail Mary prayer in a slightly modified form. 

In my modified form I chose a choice of words 

Ccloser to me and also included my love 

For you in the prayer. 

For instead of the ecclesiastical greeting: 

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you! 

I prayed: Ave Mary, full of grace, God is with you! 

You know, Evi, the Latin Catholics say 

That the Ave is the inversion of Eve. 

As Eve said no to God, 

So Mary said yes to God at the Ave of the Angel. 

Then the Church prays: 

Blessed is the fruit of thy womb! 

But I prayed: Blessed is the fruit of thy lap! 

For I always wanted to go home 

To my mother's womb. 

Nor did I greet Mary as Mother of God, 

But as Our Lady, 

For she was indeed familiar to me 

As my heavenly Mother, 

But even dearer and sweeter to me was her love 

When she chose me as her mystical Bridegroom 

And is my mystical Wife. 

Then I also prayed not: Pray for us poor sinners, 

But: Pray for us banished children of Eve! 

This formulation comes from another Marian prayer. 

We are banished children of Eve 

Because we no longer live in the earthly paradise. 

But I am also an exiled child of Eve because you, 

Evi, are my Eve 

And because your womb is my Garden of Eden 

And because I am excluded from you. 

And I also prayed not: 

Pray for us in the hour of our death, 

But: Pray for us in the hour of our going home! 

For in this way I wanted to overcome 

All natural fear of death by remembering 

That death is the going home 

To the eternal home, 

To the heavenly paradise! 

But then once Mary spoke to me 

Of the flame of love of her spotless heart 

And came with the Archangel Michael. 

And Saint Michael taught me that prayer 

As formulated by the Church has more power 

To defeat evil and to save souls and obtain graces. 

Therefore, I obey the instruction 

Of the great angelic prince Saint Michael 

And now pray the Hail Mary again like this: 

Hail Mary, full of grace! 

The Lord is with you! 

Blessed art thou among women, 

And blessed is the fruit of thy womb: Jesus! 

Holy Mary, Mother of God, 

Pray for us sinners, 

Now and at the hour of our death. Amen. 

Thus I prayed at night in front of your house, 

When the Virgin Mary came to me 

And said with a smile, You are foolish 

If you think that I have not heard your prayer. 

For I had prayed the rosary for you, Evi. 

The Virgin Mary asked me to let her into your house, 

That she would now come to you and bless you. 

Then I saw her enter your house 

As a slender light virgin. 

I followed her, for it was the appointed time 

When I was to wake you from your sleep. 

But you had not slept because of inner restlessness 

And physical tension. 

You did not want to get up from your bed. 

I prepared a cup of Himalayan green tea for you 

And cut an apple into slices. 

I brought the tea to your bed 

And you drank the green tea. 

I knelt beside your bed 

And was quite awestruck 

That I was allowed to kneel in front 

Of your bed in your bedroom. 

You stretched and stretched 

And said tiredly that you were all tense 

In the muscles and tendons of your back and neck. 

I offered to massage your back. 

I hardly dared to suggest it to you. 

But you happily accepted the offer. 

There I truly sat next to my reclining love 

On her white canopy bed, 

You turned your back to me 

And I massaged your back and neck and shoulders. 

And indeed, to give you even better relief, 

I massaged not your shirt but your bare back. 

You can't imagine the trembling shyness 

And holy awe that gripped me! 

I may have had lustful thoughts 

Of how sweet it would be to caress your breasts, 

But at the same time a scene from the Bible 

Ran through my mind: 

Moses desired to behold the glory of the Lord, 

And God said, You cannot behold my face, 

For there is no one alive who beholds my face! 

But I will pass by you, 

And you will see my back and my neck! 

Thus God said to Moses, 

And, O God, I felt more graced than Moses! 

For I was not allowed to look 

At the Lord's neck and back alone, 

But to touch the Lord's neck and back! 

What madness of love! 

Then you rose up 

And took a refreshing bath. 

But I took the apple slices with me on a bowl 

And sat down in the dark night 

On the garden bench in front of your house, 

Sat under the sacred oak 

And the elder tree with the black pearls 

And dined on the apple. 

But I picked up some slices for you. 

Then you stepped out of the house, 

Your long black hair still damp and curly from the bath. 

You sat down quietly next to me on the garden bench. 

I offered you the apple slices and you ate them. 

I felt as if I were Adam and you were Eve 

And we were eating the apple in the Garden of Eden, 

But without sin! 

I was so blissful, 

I really was in earthly paradise for a moment! 

But soon I had to say goodbye. 

And as I drove into my flat, 

A grey cat scurried to the side as if shooed away. 

I had to think of this when I soon read 

In the Jewish Talmud book 

How Adam, after eating the forbidden fruit, 

Was chased away by God 

Through the angel like a street dog, 

Because as a sinner he was not allowed 

To spend the night in the earthly paradise!... 

The next morning I read in the Talmud. 

The Jewish Talmud is considered by the Jews, 

Along with the Old Testament, 

To be the holy scripture and revelation of God. 

I read, The day has twelve hours. 

In the first hour the earth needed to create 

The first man was gathered together, 

In the second he was formed into a lump, 

In the third the limbs were formed, 

In the fourth the soul was breathed into him, 

In the fifth he stood up, 

In the sixth God presented the animals to him 

So that he should name them, 

In the seventh Eve was brought to him! 

In the eighth they climbed into bed two by two - 

And left it four by four (Eve's two sons), 

In the ninth he was forbidden to eat 

Of the tree of knowledge, 

In the tenth he transgressed against it, 

In the eleventh he was judged, 

In the twelfth he was cast out of paradise! 

For it is said in Psalm 49:13, 

For Adam was not to abide overnight in his dignity, 

But was driven from it like cattle. 

Really, Evi, when I read that, 

I was Adam, the first man in the world, 

And I was chased out of the Garden of Eden. 

And I wept and wailed for four hours 

Over the misfortune of Adam 

Being driven out of paradise! 

I could not dry my tears, 

And as the Psalmist says, 

My soul would not be comforted! 

I was inconsolable 

And full of nameless lamentation 

Over the fall and expulsion of Adam. 

Only after four hours did I compose myself a little. 

Then I heard the voice of Horeb praying. 

Horeb is the mountain 

Where God revealed himself to Moses 

In a burning bush and said, 

I am Yahweh! 

My name is: I am who I am! 

I am who I was and am and will be! 

I am who I will be! 

I am the I Am! 

I am! Hallelujah! 

I heard the voice from Horeb praying 

The prayers to Christ on his way of the cross: 

Christ, with the breath of men you created, 

Men blaspheme you! 

Christ, with the tongue of men whom you created, 

Men mock you! 

Christ, you fell three times under the weight of the cross! 

Then you died the death of the cross! 

O Christ, by thy holy cross 

Thou didst redeem the whole world! 

Christ, your body was laid 

In the womb of your holy Mother! 

Christ, your body was buried! 

Then such passionate streams of tears 

Rushed over me again 

And I had to weep for three hours 

Over the death of Christ on the cross! 

They crucified my Lord! 

My Lord died for me! 

O what sorrow, what nameless suffering, 

That the Son of God should be crucified 

By His own, by humanity! 

I wept for three hours until I turned 

To a picture of the Virgin 

Painted by Leonardo da Vinci. 

It shows the nursing Madonna. 

The bare breast is plump and filled 

With the sweet milk of consolation, 

And the naked Child Jesus 

Is sucking eagerly at the breast. 

Then I prayed in my lamentation 

To the breasts of Mary: 

O Mary, blessed are your breasts, 

At which Jesus drank! 

Let me also suck the milk of consolation 

From your most blessed breasts! 

Verily, no one ever calls in vain 

To the breasts of Mary! 

For Mary made me drink the milk of consolation 

From her merciful breasts! 

And when I had been nursed and comforted, 

Like a breastfed child in its mother's arms, 

You called me, Evi, with your heavenly-sweet voice, 

If I would help you again in the night. 

That is how Mary comforted me! 

I was allowed to see you again, Evi! 

I looked at pictures by Leonardo da Vinci. 

I saw St. Anne, the mother of Mary, 

With the young girl Mary 

And the little child Jesus. 

I saw the Madonna in the dark mystic rock grotto, 

An angel sitting next to her, 

The glowing cloth folded in her lap, 

The little boy John pointing to the blessing boy Jesus. 

I saw Jesus at the Last Supper. 

Then I saw the housewife Gioconda, 

Glorified by Leonardo in artistic work 

Of ten years to the Mona Lisa 

With the mysterious smile. 

O Mona Lisa, O mistress Evi, 

O enchanting smile! 

And so I came to you in the evening, 

And you were studying your notes 

And smiling so blissfully and peacefully 

And absorbedly before you, 

I thought I saw the smile of the Mona Lisa, 

I saw the smile of Evi, 

I saw the smile of the Virgin of Guadelupe! 

But at midnight, in my hermit cell, 

I heard again the voice from Horeb. 

It was the voice of my dear 

Holy father John Paul the Great. 

The holy old man in heaven 

Murmured the Rosary in Latin 

And the Lauretan Litany, 

The great Marian praise, in Latin. 

And I fell asleep with the prayer on my lips: 

O Mary, I am all yours! 

O Maria, totus tuus ego sum!




CANTO IV


Beloved, the Holy Spirit had pointed me again 

And again during this time 

To the biblical passage where Solomon 

Is called to build the temple of God. 

Watch therefore, for the Lord has chosen you 

To build a house as a sanctuary.

Be of good courage and build it. 

And David gave Solomon his son 

A design for the porch of the temple, 

And for the building thereof, 

And for the chambers thereof, 

And for the upper chambers thereof, 

And for the inner chambers thereof, 

And for the room of the throne of grace; 

And also designs for all that came 

Into his mind by the Spirit.... 

And David said unto Solomon his son, 

Be of good courage, and do it. 

Fear not and be not dismayed! 

The Lord God, my God, will be with thee, 

And will not withdraw his hand, nor forsake thee, 

Until thou hast finished every work 

For the service of the house of the Lord. 

(1 Chronicles 28). 

I went to church to pray for you. 

At the sacrifice of Christ 

I entrusted you to the Eternal 

And at the food of the body of Christ 

I asked God to give you divine wisdom. 

The choir of the congregation 

Sang three hymns to the Holy Spirit, 

Te priest said, Receive the Holy Spirit, 

The breath of God! 

So I came to you to help you. 

But it was so that the ideas and words 

Just flowed out of you, 

Because the Holy Spirit had passed over to you! 

So you wrote until nightfall. 

I just sat there and watched you 

Becoming a Black Madonna 

In the garden during the night. 

All I could think of was the magic word: Chartres! 

You were a beautiful shadow in the dark night, 

I was filled with Eros. 

You spoke, I am so tense in my back and shoulders! 

I said, That's how Jesus felt when he carried the cross. 

May I massage you? 

You allowed it, 

But when I had massaged you a little, 

There was a thunderclap. 

You flinched as if we had done something forbidden. 

Because you flinched as if from something unchaste, 

I moved away from you. 

But you, filled with the Holy Spirit, 

Continued to work. 

The next day I gave you a beaded bracelet 

From South America, 

A bracelet of white beads with pictures of saints attached. 

Pictures were of Jesus and Mary, 

Of Saint Joseph and other saints. 

You wore it for protection. 

In the evening you put your little Tom to bed, 

Whom I had looked after during the day. 

He sat naked on my lap 

And you stood in front of us 

To put on his dressing gown. 

Then the child said, Look and look! 

I looked and looked and saw, behold, what I saw 

Were your beautiful white breasts! 

And that night I had a significant dream. 

A man said to me, do I want to be a lover 

And get married or do I want to be a devotee? 

I said, I am a devotee, but still a lover! 

Then the man said, I should pray to know my vocation. 

I entered a church dedicated to the Holy Spirit. 

On the altar, the body of Christ 

Was displayed for adoration. 

But I knelt before the altar of Mary. 

There I saw three images of the Virgin Mary. 

In the first picture, the Archangel Gabriel knelt 

Like a beautiful youth before the beautiful Lady Mary 

And paid her homage in adoring love. 

In the second picture, Mary stood in a blue and white dress, 

But with bare white breasts, 

And invited me to be her lover. 

In the third picture I saw the act of love 

Of the Holy Spirit with the pure Virgin, 

The Virgin was lying in her bed 

And the white dove of the Spirit of Love 

Recognised the Virgin, 

I saw her bare breasts 

And her face rapt with bliss of the ecstasy of love! 

The next day I came to you again, Evi. 

We worked together, but I was impatient. 

You wanted to work slowly and calmly, 

But I wanted to dance and race and storm. 

You were like Pharaoh's black mare 

From the Song of Solomon, 

And I was your rider, 

I wanted to spur you on to a fiery and stormy gallop, 

And I drove my spurs into your sweating flanks, 

But you rebelled with displeasure 

And threw me out of the saddle! 

Then you rose up before me 

And shook your long damp black mane 

Conciliatory and looked at me, 

But I humbly begged your forgiveness 

And stroked your back. 

At midnight I went home. 

It was the last day before your oral presentation 

To the chair and the examination board. 

We stood in a dark room, 

There was no light but the light of our eyes. 

I asked you to give me your hand 

And gave you a blessing like a priest: 

Through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 

Through the intercession of Blessed Evelin of Liège 

And through the intercession of all the saints, 

May the all-loving God, 

The Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit 

Bless, protect and enlighten you! 

I left you under the sign of the cross. 

But when I returned home to my hermit cell, 

I drank my red wine and prayed again,

Through the intercession 

Of the Most Blessed Virgin Mary, 

Through the intercession 

Of St. Quentin the Martyr 

And through the intercession of all the saints, 

May the all-merciful God, 

The Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, 

Bless and protect you! 

Through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 

Through the intercession of St. Thomas the Apostle, 

Apostle of India and China, 

And through the intercession of St. Thomas, 

The angelic teacher of philosophy, 

And through the intercession of all the saints, 

May Almighty God, 

The Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, 

Protect and bless you! 

Through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 

Through the intercession of St. Peter, my patron, 

And through the intercession of St. Evi, 

And through the intercession of all the saints, 

May the Almighty God, 

The Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, 

Protect and bless you! Amen. 

Early in the morning, after a few hours of sleep, 

I awoke and read in the Bible,

And the Eternal said unto Abram, 

I will bless thee, 

And make thy name great, 

And thou shalt be a blessing. 

And I will bless them that bless thee, 

And him that curseth thee will I condemn; 

And with thee shall all kindreds 

Of the earth bless themselves. -

Then, on my way to you, Evi, 

I praised the omnipotence and tenderness of God, 

Which was expressed to me in these words, 

Yes, downright the divine omnipotence of tenderness! 

But when I came into your garden, 

The radiance of the purest summer morning sun 

Lay over the green garden. 

The trees and grasses and bushes were green, 

Flowers were in bloom and berries hung on the trees. 

The little birds sang and hopped merrily in the branches.

Then I entered your house and greeted you. 

You were standing in the bathroom 

In front of the mirror. 

You were dressed all in black, 

With a black shirt and black trousers, 

A wide black belt with a silver buckle, 

Your long black hair was still damp from the bath 

And hung down long and curly. 

You put black make-up on your long eyelashes 

In front of the round mirror. 

As I greeted you, you looked at me and smiled. 

The whole bathroom was bathed in dazzling light. 

I stepped back from the overwhelming beauty 

And went into the living room. 

Then it crossed my mind 

That the inaccessible radiance of light 

In which God dwells 

Can also be expressed by the mysterious radiance 

Of the Black Madonna. 

The father of Western mysticism, 

Dionysius, a Catholic Neoplatonist, 

Spoke of the supreme vision 

As the vision of the dark light of God! 

This paradox of the dark light 

Is the only appropriate way to speak 

Of the indescribable primordial beauty 

Of the primordial divinity. 

Dionysius calls the highest Godhead - 

Primordial beauty! 

And truly, it seemed to me that I saw 

The Black Madonna in a cloud of radiant light, 

And she smiled lovingly at me! 

I saw in a vision the dark light 

Of the divine primeval beauty! 

My knees began to tremble 

And I stepped into the garden of Paradise 

In the radiance of the morning sun. 

I sat down on the garden bench 

And began a conversation 

With the holy fourth century Doctor of the Church, 

John Chyrsostomus, 

That is John Goldmund. 

He was called Goldmund because 

When Mary kissed his mouth, 

It was because he could speak so beautifully. 

I said, Saint John Goldmund, you once said: 

Three things are left of the earthly paradise, 

These are the purity of the child's eyes,

The beauty of the flowers 

And the glory of the starry sky. 

Holy Goldmund, that is true, 

But you did not know Evi. 

She is also left over from the earthly paradise! 

She is pure like the eyes of a child 

Looking at a picture of the Virgin Mary, 

She is beautiful like a salmon-coloured rose 

In the dawn of a May morning, 

She is splendid like the black Mother Night 

In her diamond starry dress! 

I mean, Evi is the Eve from the Garden of Eden 

Who still walks among us! 

Then Johannes Goldmund smiled. 

I was back in paradise, in the Garden of Eden,

And a mysterious lust glowed through me 

And I thought of the male sex of the serpent 

And the female sex of the fig. 

And I said fervently, yet jokingly in my mind, 

Ah, Evi, you are my chosen fig! 

But then I saw again the vision 

Of the dark light of the divine primeval beauty, 

The Black Madonna in the radiance of light 

Before the immaculate mirror, then I said, 

God, what I saw is the Glory of the Lord! 

Lord, you yourself appear with your Glory! 

Your Glory fills the dwelling place 

Like a cloud full of the radiance of light, 

I cannot enter the dwelling place 

Because the golden cloud of Glory is in it! 

And my knees sank to the ground, 

For I was moved to adore the Glory of the Lord, 

The dark light of the divine primordial beauty 

Revealed in the Black Madonna, 

To adore the beauty of God 

Revealed to me in Evi! 

So we went to the university 

Where you wanted to pass your oral examination. 

Before the exam I opened the Gospel 

And read in the Apocalypse 

That the seer John wanted to fall down 

Before the angel who had shown him 

The heavenly Jerusalem in visions 

And wanted to worship the angel! 

But the angel said, Do not do it, 

I am your fellow servant 

And the fellow servant of all your brothers, 

The other prophets, 

But worship God! 

Then your discourse began. 

You wore on your right wrist the white pearl bracelet 

With the medallions of the saints. 

But one medallion came loose when you began to speak, 

Because at the same moment I began to pray 

The Rosary in the Spirit. 

It was the medallion of the Virgin Mary. 

She was slender and young, 

Perhaps seventeen or twenty-two years young, 

Wearing a snow-white dress 

And a long sky-blue mantle, 

With a sky-blue belt wrapped around her waist, 

Her face was feminine, oval, 

Sweetly smiling, girlish 

And yet with motherly-loving eyes, 

But from her hands, like white rays of sunshine, 

Poured out the heavenly graces 

Which she pours out on those 

Who call upon her for help. 

And Our Lady poured out these graces on you, Evi, 

And also on me, because I prayed the Hail Mary 

In my spirit throughout the whole talk. 

So you passed the test. 

I said goodbye to you 

And on my way home through the wood

I thought of the saying spoken by a priest in a comedy: 

You can say what you like about the love of God, 

But you won't have heartache! 

And when I was back in my hermit cell, 

I was taught by a Catholic scribe 

About the beauties of the heavenly Jerusalem. 

He spoke very seriously and wisely, 

But for me it was the funniest joke 

That God had ever played on me! 

That he now spoke of the bride, 

Of the woman who is the wife of the Lamb! 

This is the heavenly Jerusalem, 

The perfect city, 

A cube of symbolic numbers of perfection! 

Built by the Architect Christ in eternity, 

This heavenly Jerusalem is built only of gold, 

But not of profane gold, 

But of gold that is transparent like glass. 

Its walls are of jasper, 

But the gates are open. 

Each gate is made of a white pearl, 

Twelve white pearls form the twelve gates, 

On them are the names of the saints! 

And this heavenly Jerusalem is the Bride! 

This heavenly Jerusalem is the Lamb's wife, 

And she is invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb, 

The banquet of heaven! 

And her Glory is as pure and clear and radiant 

As a transparent jasper, 

Her Glory, her doxa in Greek, 

Is her ineffable beauty, 

The ineffable beauty of God 

Belongs to her by essence, 

For in her perfect beauty dwells 

The Divine Primordial Beauty!