SONNETS TO MADONNA MARY

BY TORSTEN SCHWANKE

FIRST BOOK

(2001/3)

FIRST SECTION

My baby, you came into the world today,

How sweet, how heavenly is your red mouth,

How pure are your eyes from the bottom of your heart,

In which your soul's graces glow!

With Anne's motherly milk flowing around,

Bless her breasts with thy pure mouth.

And give her love from the bottom of thy heart

And accept love from her.

It may be that other children crave wickedly,

With self-will early crying for love

And bite into the breast with evil impulse...

But with Mary Anne could feel

That she is full of goodness. She must consecrate her

To the heart of God, who created her so dear!

Beloved queen of the homeland, far away

Are you, and I am alone in exile!

See how I weep in the cold darkness,

And drip consolation, O queen of the stars!

I may count your pomegranate seeds

And yet am sad in the olive grove,

As the sun's sulphur-yellow glow fades away

And I learn again to endure suffering.

How I long for tenderness so much!

I'd like to be a dove in your nest

And would gladly sleep at your bosom.

But you are far away. I will in my sorrow

Faithfully await heaven's wedding feast -

Till then suckle me with milk of comfort!

When I fall asleep I see your image

And your graceful bearing the child.

How beautiful were the veils around thy hair

As a shield of your exquisite chastity!

And when I dream, I step into the field,

Where the faithful so gladly go on pilgrimage,

There may I learn Wisdom from thy spirit,

Queen of the muses, gentle in grace.

When I awake from the sweet dream

And emerge from the sweet foam of beauty,

I call thy name with deep love,

That glows in my heart every day,

And sing to thee from the rose garden a song

And hope for heaven's pomegranate seed...

Alas! I miss the beautiful stream of warmth,

That flows to me from the purity of thy heart,

When priests talk as Protestants

About my Marian love. Your aroma

Shall always perfume me in every cathedral,

For thou art a balm to all my pains.

Therefore, let my motto be: All thine!

The Pope of Rome teaches me this motto.

Yours - with all my soul's love,

Yours - with all the beauty of my art,

Yours - with all my faith in Christ!

Be mine - in the chamber of my heart,

Be mine - mistress of my love's fervour,

Be mine - we together two turtledoves!...

O Queen of melancholy, come!

Madonna Melancholy, come

And grow to me like a willow of tears,

Like a weeping willow, in which glowed

The morning star. I am pious in sorrow,

Madonna Melancholy! Come

And lead through the valley of mourning to rest

My poor heart that swam in tears.

O queen of the melancholy and night,

Black-eyed beloved! Wrap me

In thy hair's veil motherly

And with thy mouth kiss me softly

The tears from my lashes when I weep,

Let me be safe in your tender arms!

When I was drowned in sadness

And beat my skull against the wall,

I loved thee with my soul's flight

And longed much for bliss.

Then came times of reasonableness,

I was very dry, thought myself wise,

Since you were no longer at my ship's bow.

And friends mocked me many a time.

Now I return to solitude,

Your image again gloriously adorns my wall.

Then I think of the sad happiness,

When you were my joy in my sorrow,

When love blossomed under the shower of tears

And my gloom was comforted by your gaze.

I want all true Christians to walk

In love behind your image!

Thou marble image of La Palma's sea,

Whom under her veil brown curls fall,

I praise thee tonight with all,

I praise you as mother! so much

I adore thee! and love thee still more!

Because thou art pleased with my beloved:

You love her, I am sure of it,

Take her motherly into thy keeping,

Be to her an ideal of Socrates,

Star above her passions' blood,

And lead her soul through the night

To God's Son in Eden's flowery splendour!

What is a fairy tale without you, O Mother?

In the blue mantle of the sea your mercy

Shall warm all children's little hearts,

You figurehead on the ship of the church,

Give the children honey and milk,

And young girls with beautiful charms

Give a little wine, and to my sorrow

In dreams of heaven thou givest manna.

O mother of the living, my life

And my true delight and hope,

I will love thee and praise thee for ever!

O Virgin, Queen of Love in May,

Secret Lady to me in all my deep love!

Let me always be in your love!

Mary, my soul is saddened!

So was I given to the fervour

Of love, in the flood of passion thrown,

Yes, in love with all my soul!

I have practised the praise of women

And wrote poetry in intoxication and love‘s rage,

With hope and hope's courage.

And ye, O my Eden songs, remained.

Now I am tormented by the poison of jealousy

And the rose's gentle thorn tormented me.

I felt abandoned and lost,

For to me was denied the fruit of paradise.

Then I, pierced by sorrow,

O Mary, fifteen Hail Marys I sang to thee.

„You have so often said to me in pious,

In passionate hot summer days,

You were mine, and offered me your heart.

Your heart - I received it with love!

In tears your drunken gaze has swam,

Then I hear thy heart's woeful lament.

Deer in love chasing gazelles,

And spirit, mind and heart are gone from me!

You wanted me in your heart inside

With all pious passions love me

And be with me in eternal union!

Think of death's dark Jordan,

Of my kiss, of my kiss of Lourdes...

From today I am entirely yours!“

O Mary, in the time of black lamentations

And desire for the end of my mortality,

Since my sorrow had become too heavy for me,

Since I suffered in the empty days,

Whatever the hard friends say of friendship,

The pretty girls full of sweetness,

They had no time to help me,

Since they chase after vain things.

But God, God strengthened my weak heart,

The courage of a man's fate steeled my soul,

Thy Mother's name my heart inspired.

As pearls of balm to my soul's pain

I wear your rosary on my arm,

Forsaken by the world - all yours!

Greetings to you, O queen of loneliness,

Greetings to you, O bride in my deepest heart,

Hail, O Mother of all my sorrows,

Hail to thee, I consecrate to thee my soul's woe,

Hail, O guide to eternity,

Hail to thee, O mistress of pious candles,

Greetings, O Lady with golden feet,

Hail, O fair maiden of my love,

Hail to thee, all my soul's longing,

Hail, dreamlike figure in the land of poppies,

Hail to thee, comfort of my tears of sorrow,

Hail to thee, Madonna on the blood of veins,

Hail to thee, mediatrix to the kingdom of the Son,

Hail! My heart, O Lady, save it!

I sang for you, O Lady, in the Holy Mass,

When within me thou didst appear as an image,

In supreme beauty and with golden countenance,

The clasp on my arm's brown pallor.

The act of grace I never forget,

With which thou wouldst serve my heart,

With the golden sweetness of honeybees

And with the holy blood in wine's shape:

The host of Jesus from my lip

Into my heart sank, the flesh of the dear God,

That I may see the bright babe within me,

The Son of God in my heart's manger,

The Eternal in my heart's grotto,

Given to me by Our Lady of Love!

The Lord's words seem hard to me

And left my poor soul peaceless,

Who weeps in purgatory

And must wait all night long for mercy.

Then you came into my inner garden

And entered the cave of my inner heart

Of the mystical betrothal... I choose

To be the man of the queen of love, the tender

Beloved, who visits me in the home of the soul,

Of the soul, dancing the dance of Mahanaim,

Wearing beautiful bracelets on a maiden's arm.

The song of songs of love I will sing,

I will offer the life of Mary to God,

Lamenting to the consoler of the afflicted.

Where were you in the night I suffered,

For my soul's sweetheart was hid?

I was sick with love's failing sorrows

And lay in the midst of the dark midnight

And knew but how to uncork the bottle,

As red tears slipped from my eyes.

Wordlessly pleading my aching pains

And salvation comes not in the night. Not till the morning,

For rich in tears the afflicted dreamed

In the morning after the bitter night of torment

The beauty of the divine beloved!

To my bliss I was cursed,

O Son, with pain I sought thee,

Fortunately, Mary, you left me alone.

O mother of fair love, look,

I dare to make a timid prayer to thee.

In poetic virginity

I live alone for the inner vision.

How lonely it is in my cave,

How often my soul sadly pleads

And eye and eye are in tears

And I ask the Lord God for a woman.

The unfulfilled hope makes the knight‘s

Of Our Lady heart so bitter.

What shall I ask? Ah, my heart is sick!

The other half seeks the divided.

O New Eve, if thy works heal me,

If God's bounty comes to me, thanks be to thee!

Women slap my cheeks

And scorn my poverty, scorn me.

They turn to rich and to fair men,

They are like sandal trees full of snakes.

The women only take my brain in pincers

And pluck briars to crown me.

They talk a lot, so I always have to groan,

Because their speeches sound so distorted.

O sandalwood tree without snakes,

O true Wisdom, my soul's rest,

To thee alone I will consecrate my love!

Lead me to the heart of Jesus, crowned with thorns,

To the heart of Jesus that reconciles me.

May the Lord Jesus set my soul free!

O star of the sea, see my Mediterranean

Of passions' churning tide,

The foam-wreathed, heated blood,

The sensual pleasures - I desire too much!

O star of the sea, where does chastity come to me,

Who restrains my passion's rage,

Who crucifies my hot flesh

And loves me, who gives me joy?

O star of the sea, I must so often renounce

On my desire, renounce my lust.

Yet often the serpent's bites torment me!

O epitome of chastity, may I write

Of thee as Mary Aphroditissa?

See me wailing at your bare feet!

In the catechism I saw a picture,

How Uranos lay at Christ's feet.

Why am I still so fearful and timid,

When I consecrate to thee the Cyprian's island?

On a shell Venus approached wildly

And heralded the golden sunny day -

To whom I may dedicate all this?

Who gladly prays before thy gracious image:

Madonna with pomegrenade of paradise,

Which I found in the blooming field,

You smile on me in my heart's grotto.

Let me go on pilgrimage, Virgin full of grace,

To the Olymp, to your girdle of chastity,

O Mary Aphroditissa! - never bigot.

Madonna, much have I for the sake of Jesus

Suffered, innermost turmoil,

The soul in exile winter's woe

And longing, which can never be satisfied.

I bore the girlish whims, woman's feelings,

O you, who among women is blessed,

I suffered the strange, mother and maiden,

And cried that Love might fill me.

I suffered under God's wrath,

I met the Lord in misunderstanding

And stood, as an ox, before the Holy Scriptures.

But you were the balsamhorn of comfort,

Proof of God's love! My confession

In your heart God's Grace meets.

Unkind, strangest indifference

Tormented me in the vale of tears,

I was like Saint Sebastian at the stake

And hate's arrows were all my woe.

You hear it, Mother, how your poor man cries,

How he mourns his enemies without number,

And no friend in the inner chamber

To heal his heart with tender love.

Madonna, in the crook of your arms

Lay me and wrap me in thy mantle

And heal my heart's bitter woe.

You are so rich in love, so warm of heart,

In thy heart all my ways rest,

In thy beautifully confounding tenderness...

A rose red lowers itself into my grave,

Will one weep for me with gentle sorrow?

To thee, O Mary, my tears flow,

For whom today I have nothing but melancholy.

With feminine caresses

You console my soul: collapsed wall,

A wind whistles through, a cold rough one,

I creep on a crooked pilgrim's staff.

Faint as I am, blessed am I,

Because you love me! because I love you!

I am hidden in your motherly womb:

From which you will bear me into life!

O Mary mine, I am so sore, so sore,

May you give me home in your heart!

You resting place of the Trinity,

Let me find rest in your heart!

I sigh to thee from the vale of sins,

Thy unhoused friend in cold times.

How high, how deep, how great, how far

Extends thy mercy! I will bind myself

To thee and make my bed in thy mild

Holy bosom of bliss.

Loneliness and sorrow are heavy for me,

But sadness is only the hammer,

That makes me a man of sorrow!

You paradise of God's love!

Let me into thy love's garden!

Touch my being with your holy hands!

Praise to the Senhora of Portugal,

How she appears with beauty and with charm,

The aura of the south's sun warm,

Wrapped in the glory of dark curls,

The gleam of diamond and crystal

On her slender, soft, beautifully tanned arm.

Beautiful Madonna! Comfort to all harm!

She is the Beautiful Queen of the Universe!

The moon dangles silvery from her ear,

The sun hangs between her breasts,

On her brow she wears the morning star!

Blessed is he who has her in his heart!

O paradise for all true Christians!

Whom she does marry with the Lord!

How, good one, shall I call thee mother,

Since I have not known a mother's love

In the needy, first years?

I am an orphan in all days!

You often see me lamenting for a woman's love,

I'd like to lie down in a woman's hair

And rest between pairs of round apples,

And yet must always despair unloved!

O who, Mary, who wilt thou be to me?

How would you like to be called by me?

Madonna and Pieta you are to me,

Your motherly mantle shall be to me

The love that women denied me.

Be close to me as „Our Lady of Schwanke“!...

Beloved Mother, thank you for your nearness,

Comforter of the afflicted, beloved,

Olive, myrrh bush and balsam shrub,

In whom I see all my homeland.

Come closer, Mother, heal all my woe,

The broken sounds of the inner mind,

Life's languor and loud doldrums.

Grant that I may resist all hate,

So give me a love's potion of grace,

That I may give thanks to the love of God

And overflow with the love to God.

O healer of the heart, mother,

O helper in life, royal queen,

O Lady, give me the fruit of Paradise!

I would strike the chord of my heart,

Which thou, Mother of God, makest to sound,

My own praise, in my own way,

I want to bring to you, you beautiful grace.

I will love thee with the intimate tenderness,

Intimate tenderness, sing love to you.

You wrap me in your swan's wings

And walk before me as a great sign.

Yes! come close to me with your sweet mouth

And kiss me and kiss me well

And heal with love all my pain of the soul!

I am alone, destined for loneliness,

So I know a comfort for me in sorrow:

To be loved by your feminine heart!

I always seek a woman to love,

That I may praise her gloriously in sonnets,

Till I have her warmly in my arms.

Woman's love fled like morning dew;

But I still see a girl with my eyes,

I wish she were once in my bed,

That love may bind us with its chain,

In a moment, the colourful lust will be grey again.

But now I have found a woman

Of noblest disposition, worthy of rhyme,

With a lovely heart in a lovely bosom.

I know I'll remain eternally bound to her.

Mary, to you I'll glue the sonnets,

Beloved woman, queen of the muses!

I consecrate to you the sweet little child,

Who has given me the most beautiful joy.

Make him full with motherly milk,

Let the milk be sweet and mild like love.

Scare away the shadow of inherited sin,

Turn his life's leaf to salvation

And lead him to the city of God's salvation

In your mantle, Mother, on the wind.

Mary, I remember the time of gloom,

When God fed me with the bitter wormwood

And I followed Christ in my sorrow.

Then you sent the infant full of joy,

Like a little saviour full of majesty,

And gave me, dear Lady, great delight!

O Mom, come, Mary, come to me!

With thy love‘s motherly milk nurse me,

Wrap me in your veil, in your hair!

The whole soul longs for you!

Two years I am young and crying here

For motherly love, for love's fullness!

I would like to be still at your bosom!

Turn your tenderness to me, mother!

In the bosom of female mercy

I want to be safe, in sweet warmth;

Have mercy, Mary, motherly mercy!

Here I stand. My life is my sorrow,

Who all day and night I toil and weep

And weep and weep, O Mary, bitterly!

Mary, let it not be too much for you,

When I come to thee with my tears,

Who swam in the sea of dark sorrow

And find no rock on this earth.

They torment me with the sweetest gestures,

Who glistened in the ardour of passions

And honour them as thy pious veil.

Look at my heart, O look at the wounded heart,

Look how I am torn and tortured!

Must I sing, then, those who torment me most?

Will my life be nothing but sorrow and torment?

Look, my soul chooses your name,

Thou untear'd healer of souls,

Be my consolation, I creep through the vale of tears.

I am pierced by the distance of the woman,

Hang on the cross like the knight of sorrow.

O teach me to endure! Let God himself be my avenger,

But to me may God tell a kind word!

What is thy dear word, my salvation and refuge?

I will empty this bitter cup,

I must drink of hemlock and wormwood...

And in my mind it is like murder!

Apocalyptic Madonna! Harsh

And bitter love pains I must suffer,

Since I was struck by the splendour of choice.

I only wish that I may die soon, O soon!

May you feed me in the valley of death!

Heal me today, Mary, through sweet sleep.

Grandmother was good to me, O Mary mine,

She always accepted me and was ready

To be a comfort in my tangled sorrow.

With her death the great torment began.

Now I long to be loved,

That a heart may offer itself to me in time,

A sacrament to me of eternity.

But every woman's heart is hard as stone.

Shall I possess pneumatic-religious love

Alone, the too abstract?

I grow bitter in the dimness of life!

No love gives itself to me as naked

And giving love! I am alone.

Who will you be for me, my beloved?

I am walled in my loneliness,

God has placed in my way rugged stones,

He poured hemlock poison into my veins

And clouded my soul that it mourns.

Starry rain of my fate shudders down,

My demon walks on the blood of my veins.

But I must not quarrel against my God,

For that is what the evil spirit lurks for!

I am the bitter water of Mara, O woman,

Let down the sweet wood of the cross

And turn wormwood into the peace of life.

And must I also drink the bitter cup

And must I weep, too, full of death's sorrow,

God! Let me see that Mary loves me!

I have no friend by my side,

I have no sister, no brother,

Unmotherly mother is hardto me

And factually my father is to my sorrow.

A child of the pasture in the vastness of the world,

A drop, but not dissolved in the sea,

A star, but far from the stars of heaven,

A lamb, yet far from the lambs of the field.

Mary, be my friend, be my sister,

Be a mother to me and a shepherdess,

Be thou the one woman who loves me!

And beseech the King, O new Esther,

My heart is too sad to pray,

For thou turnest me black sheep to the good shepherd.

Mary, to die and to rise to heaven

And tp greet thee on the shore of new life

And to sink kissing at thy feet,

Is all my longing! Nights are silent

Of my happiness, and all loves show me

Their coldness, and from the mouths of sweet ones

Flows bitterness! What must I atone for?

Are there sins that bend my neck?

A Poet must suffer. Love becomes pain to him.

A curse becomes his erotic bewitchment.

A stake in the flesh are beautiful women's charms.

To rise to heaven from the cross,

To sing in the seraphine choirs

Is my desire, to plunge to thy heart!

Mary! love me long and fiercely

And tell me love with thy mouth,

That I may be wholesome in thy love's favour

And be strengthened by the power of love!

Be thou busy in beautiful love's work

And come to me in this dark hour,

Join me to thee in the bond of love

And love me sweetly and love me often!

Give yourself to me completely and hold nothing back,

Let me behold thy divine form,

O fairer thou than all fair women!

And give me the happiness of love!

Give me the rose of thy mouth, zjy hand of snow!

- But I know no love but woe....

Madonna, there is one thing I wish very much:

If you alone were the lady of my love,

That I might no longer be driven by my senses

And no longer storm the sea of passions!

You hear, women are too heavy for me,

Only through you am I free of all pain,

Who through Eros gain no pleasure

And only consume myself in my sufferings!

You may give it as my mistress,

That no other I desire but thee

And to thee alone my love adore!

I beseech thee: Save my life!

My love's prayer, dear Lady, hear!

- Must I then die from the power of impulses?

Dear mistress, I always wanted to die,

Ever since I looked at the bottom of my heart.

Now all my life is entrusted to you

With all bitter hours, all bitter hours.

Let not the demonic suicide corrupt me!

Be with me in the hour of death, O bride,

With me who dreads purgatory,

But I know nothing but to woo sister death.

You who stood under the cross,

And held in thy lap the dead Christ,

Have mercy on my soul's deep distress!

Save my soul and my heart,

Deliver me in love from pain

And by thy kiss give me a gracious death!

Beloved Lady, blessed are thy breasts,

On which Jesus Christ sucked as a child!

Thou liftest me in thy love's waves,

Oh, where I would always, always stay!

In the red veil, on heaven's shore,

You meet me within, no lie!

We have been lovingly together,

Then the face of Jesus Christ looked upon me:

I thirst! - Wilt thou drink my tears

And all my sighing liquid breaths?

Shall my sore heart give thee much love?

Thou wilt weave me in Madonna's veil,

That pityingly her eyelashes may beckon me

And she give the love I need so much!

God loves me! O Mary, help me to believe,

Help me to know the love of God,

That I am loved with all my skin and hair!

God has more love than the turtledoves,

In vain I implore the blind, the deaf.

May God reveal his love,

In this hour and in all the years,

And that no one can rob me of that love!

Mary, not the ideal beauty

With all her charms, her charms

And all her stinginess

Separates me from Christ's love! My tears

Hush, Mary, my tears hush with Jesus' grace,

That I may bathe in the love of God!

Help me, O my Lady, to say yes,

A deep yes to my loneliness,

To be free of men, and in suffering

To humbly bear my cross every day!

And when I am in the wilderness, hear my lamentation

And hold loving comfort in readiness,

And help me, my lady, in the desert time

To chase after God's love at all times!

Relationship addictions are what enslave me,

The coldness of man causes me great pain,

And those I love work my wounds.

Oh, if I were with you, with you alone

And let my passions sleep

And if God spoke a word - I would be sound!

In the year of vocation I will ask,

O Lady, what am I called to?

Shall I be a hermit, consecrate all my mind

To Thee alone, chase no girlfriends?

Shall I suffer the martyrdom of the heart

And all joy vanish from me,

Till the cross alone is my gain

And my highest pleasure are my plagues?

Shall I be to thee, Mary, your praising poet?

And do I need a woman for a parable,

To the praise of the rose, the pain of thorns too?

Thou my sighs refuge, my prayer,

I shall have thy love's favour,

Guide of the sad and lost soul!

My all, my only Madonna,

Thou my refuge in loneliness,

Thou great woman with a wide heart

And open to my longing, my delight,

Acceptance of myself, and deep fountain

Of God's love all eternity,

Thou sinless one in beauty's garment,

Thou great sign in the garment of the sun,

Let me know who you really are,

That I may not with projections cunning

To make an idol of my heart;

Lead me as a Mediatrix to the Messiah,

O perfect beauty of Jerusalem,

Lead me to the inner wedding hall!

Mary, may I, may I be happy?

Mary, may I find Christ's peace?

Won't you bind up my wounds

And show me a way out of my torment?

The melancholy falls upon me, I am alone,

No one wants to connect with me,

I can't get over the rejection of mine

And only want to cry for love, for love!

From those I demand love's favour,

They remain cold as cold snakes

And leave me poor and unloved.

Is there any help for the poor soul?

On thy counsel I almost desperately count,

Thou giv'st me comfort when no happiness is possible.

O good comforter of the afflicted,

The wretched, the afflicted and the desperate,

The suffering, the weeping, the despondent,

See how the friends cursed me:

When my words sought friendship,

They said with the most beautiful smile:

We never liked the friends who lamented,

Go you alone through these dark gorges!

Of giving and taking balance

Was now betrayed and sold in me,

I cannot recover from hardened hearts.

I am loved by God! I am baptised!

Am I lonely in darkness without light,

Has Jesus also been lonely on the cross!

Draw to yourself, beloved, my Eros,

In beauty be thou visible, Lady, within me,

More beautiful than beauty to the senses,

Then I give myself to thy light as a hero,

O beautiful sea-born of La Palma,

I would win thy love's favour

And love thee as my only beloved,

More beautiful than the Charis of Homer.

In total surrender I will give myself

And in the nuptial chamber within

Be your love‘s slave in supreme freedom!

Lead me the way to truth and life,

Marry my life's woe and misery,

Within me I marry God's trinity!

O Queen of Liberty, make me free,

That I am not enslaved and not bound

To men who strike me such wounds.

Hear me when I cry for freedom!

Yet no one stands near my self,

I have found no love in the world,

I've been in darkness and emptiness all my life

And yet longed only for bright May.

Call me from my inner chamber,

Call me within, that I may find rest,

And suffering find rest in the inner silence.

In God alone is freedom and peace, never

He destroys my inner apathy,

For my refuge is the good Father's will.

Wistful clouds of glory

Did at times lay on my spirit,

Mary's love like a golden rain

In me brought about new fruitfulness.

Beautiful Madonna in the sun's dress,

You gave your kiss of love's blessing,

And my mind was moved by your sight.

O lead me into the bosom of eternity,

O lead me into the bosom of the dawn,

Hear all my burning desire,

That thy love may quench all my burning!

May you devour me, consume me!

With thy love kill my selfishness

And let me be in thee an image of God!

I will adore above all things

Mary, the deified beloved,

The one woman who never grieved me,

The unbroken glass of God's sun.

When I sat in her valley of love,

I begged her to love me.

She loved the enthusiasm of my wooing

To hear as I lay in the green grass.

Then she bowed down overwhelmingly

In such a fire of her love's grace,

That I sank on my face shaken.

Now turn me into you, Mary, turn

My self into thee, thou God's city of jade,

Make me, God‘s daughter, for God love-sick!

Beloved, let from my inner core

The red flower of new bliss grow,

Let me be partaker of thy sun,

Near me in sunny garb from afar,

Give me from thy hair a star of joy,

Make me red wine from Cana's barrel

And pour me refreshment from the source

And send the Easter light from my Lord!

See me languishing here in deep longing

And gaze upon the painting of Florence

And ask for a joyful awakening.

You can make the dark soul light,

You can give the heart new life.

In your shell take the tears of longing...

Your coat is blue like a flower,

Your dress like a red rose.

Your coat is like a longing for death,

Your dress like a longing for life's vision.

Let your cloak sink into the dew

And show yourself in your dress before my distress.

And if I sit weeping by the bread of tears,

Come to me in a red robe, O woman,

And give me the rose of life reddish

With all the fire of wholesome blood,

That I may burn in thy flame!

You my red longing, near deadly,

Eternal life-giving, with the embers,

That I call thee my life's flame!

Oh could this kiss last forever!

Oh that this kiss could last forever!

Fulfilment above all desire

Consternate me with full showers of delight!

All the turmoil and all the mourning

Turn to pure high love's delight,

If I could increase the sweet love-pleasure,

I would with thee leap over the walls of fate!

I must sink down before thee shaken,

So overwhelmed by beauty's lust,

And trembling I seek to stammer hymns to thee!

As a sack of myrrh lay me on thy breasts,

Let me drink again the dew of thy kiss

And gather me in thy maiden's bosom.

Revered mistress, if it were possible,

As queen of the Houris to sing thee,

I would bring this praise and honour to thee,

For I yearn for such.

Rapture me to the sphere of Venus

And let me pass through the pearly gates

And swing me to the green tree of life,

Strum the harp on the crystal sea:

The maiden of paradise approaches me

And wants to give me bliss,

The eternal feminine, sent by the Lord:

It is you yourself, delicate in your adornment,

In the bosom the pomegrenate, core by core,

Be thou my paradise, beloved maiden!

The angel bore the lily to thee,

Thou saw'st his frightened brow.

Thou wast ready, as our mother earth,

To give birth to the kingdom of heaven here.

Thou in the city of flowers didst seem to see

Paradise opened, that it might become,

Where in the lilies the flock of lambs flows.

Be the fragrance of the thornless rose to me,

Let me into the pure rose garden,

Thou thornless rose of my mysticism,

Flower of beauty and love.

I consecrate to thee flowers of all kinds,

Let the bouquet of love bloom on thy bosom,

Give me rest in thy red chalice.

Like Job, I have found friends,

Who were like a waterless brook.

Like Job I lament my woe and my sorrow

And the boils, the wounds of my soul.

But I have joined myself to the comforter,

Who never broke the covenant of love,

She brings me to an inner chamber,

That there I may recover on oil and wine.

You are the ointment that heals the wound,

You are the balm that comforts,

My heart in thy balsam garden doth dwell.

As wine be more than consolation, O familiar one,

Awaken my joy's spirits!

By his wounds heal me my Master.

I am the most beloved of my Lord,

Beloved in my longing, my melancholy,

To accept this is right humility.

The morning star rises in my heart,

Let the flower break from my core,

That he loves me in my heavy melancholy,

And that he with me may empty the cup of melancholy,

And that he may be near in suffering and not far away,

That the splinters of his cross pierce me,

That I, who bear my cross patiently,

May share in the suffering of Jesus Christ!

The Lord's great gift of grace on the cross

Are you to whom I lament my woe and suffering,

Beloved Comforter in all my afflictions!

For those I pray who are all too weak,

To stand by me in my loneliness,

Who does not know how to see themselve in God's light,

Who does not carry to the cross their sorrow and woe:

When Jesus broke down under the cross,

To rise again from the dust

And to go suffering to the mountain of the skull,

His pain as a thorn pricked his brow!

Mary, help me to forgive deeply

The cold that gives me that flame,

For whom I still long.

Pray for streams from the sea of grace,

Pray for the way to true life,

Pray for the mariage of the Lamb!

Madonna, come into my night's sleep,

As I lie here tormenting my soul,

Counting beads of tears from my wounds,

Sighing is my fate and languishing.

I like so much to be before thee with soft songs,

Songs that are inspired by my misery.

Come into my sadness, pitying

My sorrow with your mercy. All-reason,

Thou art the sky-blue kingdom of heaven;

And come to me in a beautiful black dress

As my melancholy's beautiful queen.

For thee is my desire. Take me now

In your arms, kiss away my sorrow

And love my inner spirit back to health!

I am the night, I am the deep night,

And I, too, long for the spring day,

That I might speak of joy and gladness,

I am the night. She killed me,

She threw me into the abyssal pit,

There I live lonely as a legend.

And no answer comes to my question,

Why my life suffers and does not laugh.

I am the night, saturated with the blacknesses

Of gloom and tears wept alone.

I am the night, in darkness all the time.

The soul's night spreads in the heart,

God bleeds dark in the black veins.

I seek thee, beloved! Where are you?

When all I love forsake me,

And all the supplicants mock me,

You appear beautiful to me, to reconcile me,

When those so desired by me hate me.

Then will I seize thee with my soul

And all thy wonder-wonder-beautiful

With all my soul resound

And never leave thy tender love.

I believe all the proclamations

And adopt them as my own

And go my way without example

With thee. Put your hand in my hand

And lead me as a poor man of God

To paradise, which is all permeated by thee!

I do not walk in church processions,

Nor does the church sing my songs.

I am alone with you in the poem,

For we dwell together in the tower of beauty.

You have crowns for all God's children

And lead them all into the bright light.

But dark is my dreaming face

And you come dreaming to spare my gloom.

So let me be lonely with thy mild

And lovely beauty of yearning visions,

Then I'll paint thee personal icons.

With my song I will make the bed for thee,

In which thou wilt graze beneath dark roses,

Woman, who gladly suffer my love.

Lady of Wisdom, turn my sorrow

Into joy, let my cross be to me

The sweet sweetness of bitter sorrow,

That in my godforsaken state

The Christ in me lives all the time!

Let sweetest song be my shrine!

And if men cast upon me stone upon stone,

Show me God in his eternity!

Make melancholy the sign of my brow,

Which the angel of God hath painted upon me,

That I am called to the suffering of my Lord.

Take in the hands my fate's twine

And lead me up the steps of beauty

To thy face which shines with delight!

Whether later councils quote me

In creating a Mariology,

Lovers of a poetry of love

In longing lose themselves in my verses,

I don't care, I only want to adorn

The beauty of the Madonna, who

Surrender to me in deepest sympathy,

Celebrate her with heart and kidneys.

At this moment look, dear lady,

On the sonnet's rhyme-entangled structure

And let my songcraft love thee,

With my spirit and with my impulses

I love thee, with the inward cosmos that

Is thy realm, fair on the sea of blood!

Suicidal by birth, I must endure

The dark angel's lure and must ripen

And old serpent skins from me strip,

As a phoenix from the ashes rise;

And shall I see new-born beauty?

How shall I understand my sadness,

When hours drag me through loneliness

And women resist my longing?

O mother of my sorrows, give me birth,

That I may become a man after God's likeness,

A beautiful light, awakened from the grey dimness.

How do I enter the sphere of bliss

And enter the garden on the new earth

But only through your love and God's love?

Don Juan too, he hurries to the women,

To go away from women again,

Like a hundred sacraments, a hundred marriages,

To finally see his death as a woman!

Even Don Quixote in the blue evening dew

Desired only to look upon the one,

To her in adventure he would stand

And to her entrust conquered enemies.

David, too, once went from woman to woman,

To end in the arms of Abishag

And to consecrate all his wives to God.

And I do not understand my fate. I look at

Mary within me, I want to woo her,

And hope she will give me her love.

From my gloom I want to the maenad

And sink wildly to a red mouth

And burrow myself in a woman's bottom,

That I may bathe in sweet summers!

But only the cool jade of the moon is darkening

And loneliness opens the deep gorge

And gulps down the heart so sore, so sore

And everything tells me: suffering is grace!

Devotedly I give myself to suffering

And bear the cross of longing and despair

And look at the bliss from the deep night,

I am Madonna's favourite,

Who gleamed to promise me bliss:

My heart, to be glad, my heart must break!

O Lady, thou hast made me thy lyre,

That I may sound of thy sweet love.

So take me in your slender hands, beautiful one,

And play a song of Jesus' wedding feast!

Enfold me with thy beauty's veil,

That I may adorn the beauty of God,

Crown life with the crown of life

And sing creation's immanent fire.

O woman, to sing your song, show the women,

Let me see mother nature with her breasts

And let me recognise thee in many an image

And let me sound thy love's sweet burning

With my lyre sound, consecrated to thee,

And God's gigantic love's woe!

They say you once conceived in the ear.

O dear woman, conceived is in the bosom

The ray of the sun in the chalice of the rose,

The angel's greeting in the pearly gates.

Because Eve once lost her innocence,

Shall not dew fall to the moss?

Thy womb is without blemish, is not loose,

And God hath chosen it for a bridal chamber.

If God's spirit overshadow thy womb,

A miracle of purest chastity hath mated thee.

And God appeared in thy mandorla,

I will celebrate the narrow gate of heaven

And veil it with pure holiness,

Because our salvation was in thy womb.

Thou high queen of holy souls,

I meditate on your purity in the morning,

But then I taste bitter meanness

And must again smoulder in purgatory.

I was made to suffer, I must choose suffering,

At the same time, my joy is your fineness,

Which thou hast received from the unity with God,

Thou may pray to God, to torment me no longer!

By men I feel wickedly betrayed,

May you reconcile me with men,

That I may again see the Lord in them!

O lead me out of the fires of thy grace

And lead me to the blessed vision of the beauty

In thy vicegerent, O Lady!

To attain the ideal of beauty,

Impossible on earth but in desire

And under the chaste veil of bright tears

Shines on the image in its sweet splendour.

To receive the motherly consolation

Is a nearness also given. Full of desire

I want to think that you gave your grace to those

Who gently embraced me with spirit and arms.

But only the distance glows in my heart,

That all love's grace denies me,

Such is my lot, I will bear it.

Mary, come to me from the morning star,

To the stag that lusts for the hind,

And soothe my sorrow and my lamentations.

What Dante read at the gates of hell,

I, too, heard, Abandon all hope!

The graces of my beautyful were

Only to look at, like sunshine through glass,

The lady in waiting sat before me in the grass

With sweetest erotic behaviour,

Erotes flew all around her in multitudes,

But I was excluded from all bliss,

But I was excluded from all love,

But I was excluded from all happiness

And yet I was called to write poetry about her.

Must I renounce the fulfilment of my urges

And earthly bliss, and human love,

O Mary, grant me the sight of your love!

My hard fate seems to be to love those,

Who do not love me, who refuse me;

But I cannot love, I can only honour

The gracious souls who love me.

When my homage and hot loving

Pierces my left side as with spears,

The black blood mingles with seas of tears,

Because one denies me her fair love;

Then it is not her heavy fault after all:

Then it is but the law of my grace

And I must bear it, suffer silently and endure.

But thou art different from other women,

An ideal of beauty to behold,

Do you return to my sweet love!

In you I will gather all my being,

That is unconscious to me, that is conscious to me,

The great sufferings and the small pleasures,

My true nature and my many appearances,

The heart of twitching flesh, the heart of stone,

The longing for the womb and for the breasts,

The ideals and the dust of existence,

The body's loaf and the blood's wine,

All my dreams of personality,

Redeemed sensuality and pure spirit

And eternal life in bliss.

You give it to God, who feeds me with longing,

With longing from the dull,

That I may become – a god in the true God!

Mary, when the angel of God came,

When God sent his Holy Spirit,

I prostrated myself. My soul praises

The greatness of God, who saw my sin.

That night God took my soul,

Has injected a new soul,

Who now with longing shows my life

The way to my soul's bridegroom.

To find my soul's bridegroom,

I must walk the road of heavy suffering,

Often have I fallen under my burden

Till all my seven senses are gone

And I died resting in thy bosom,

Where once, O blameless one, thou didst find me!

In your heart build me a garden

With white lilies for pure senses

And red roses for mild love

And blissful flowers of all kinds.

I will wait patiently in the desert,

Till I begin to blossom in thy heart

And win the fruit of thy garden

And see in thy paradise the tender

Blissful comrades of delight,

Who are all perfect mirrors,

Who all wear a radiance of the sun.

In your heart I will be resolved,

O thou my all and my one

That in thee I may cleave to the heart of God!

Beloved, in the deep depression

Is a thought full of bitterness,

A cup of stale drink, spiced with sorrow:

Of long life's thousand illusions,

There was love only in dream visions,

The maid in the silk dress was untouched,

In vain the maiden was pined for.

With hair of chestnuts, of brown chestnuts.

And each one was important to me in my heart

And yet only like a confused dream image fleeting

And all my longing was in vain.

What remained was a consuming, a pining away,

A woe is me and a bitter night's sleep.

To you I consecrate all the love of my life.

Beloved, listen to my sad song,

With which I will consecrate a poor animal,

At your bare feet I lay it,

It is I myself, for I am a serpent.

Thy thigh bends as a jewelled clasp,

Sings Solomon, the serpent stretches here,

Catch it with thy hand, thou takest me,

You hold me with your hands long

And put my iridescent skin

As a girdle around your loins, my bride,

Do not shun the venom from my wisdom.

The serpent goddess be of the Cretan women,

Embrace me with all my senses

And let me sparkle on the starry orbit.

Queen of the floods and the foam,

Queen of the pools and the seas,

Thou queen of the vast sphere,

Queen of the world's interior,

Poppy blossom, lower me into the realm of dreams,

Doe, after whom I roar as a stag's buck,

Wisdom's bosom, with wisdom beguile me,

Surround me with wisdom, O green tree of life,

Grant that I may flee to thee in dreams,

Give me the fruits of paradise's beauty,

Visions of love's sweet delight!

Reality is poor, let the dream be rich,

Madonna of my dream, still me

With love's dew from thy womb's source.

First be still, O my soul,

You may imagine the heart's interior,

The inner space, the twilight, the light,

There seek thou thy rest with Jesus.

Here I am, O Lord, and I look seekingly towards

To the bed where thou restest as in waves,

As golden as the honey in the cells,

In thy heart I rest in a moment.

Thou showest me a dark almond seed,

As if in it were the wisdom of my Lord,

Upon my brow a kiss of blessing.

Now I go to Mary. Clasps ring,

I will sing to the lovely Madonna,

To gaze upon her be my only delight.

In ancient, rather young Greece,

By the blue sea, by the Mediterranean,

There I would have begged for the hetaera,

To adorn her hand with rings,

I would have stood in Eros' fire,

Unhappy in love, because the fair lady

Had refused me, spears of fire

Sharpened with lead, Eros held in his hand.

I would have turned to philosophy,

I would have longed for apathy.

The lovely hetaera I saw,

She would have been to me, by the advice of Diotima.

A picture of Urania of Paphos.

I would have prayed to Urania.

Mary, of the Greek serenity,

Of their eros-drunk culture,

Mediterranean blossoming nature

I do not enjoy, but suffer from longing.

And our Lord was ready for the Passion

And I too must walk in his footsteps.

Is the Christian life only suffering?

And joy only in eternity?

O let me suck light from God's sun,

Let life from life flow to me

And give also serenity of wisdom!

When Eros quarrels with the soul's peace,

Then may blessed reconciliation sprout,

Then be thou once to me – the cup of delight!

Lady of wisdom, sometimes I am old

Of all melancholy meditation

And all praying, all contemplating,

The hair in my beard almost turns white.

Beloved, sometimes I glow so hotly

And want to lose myself in the highest pleasure,

To adorn your arms with serpentine clasps

And blossom with Sulamit in paradise!

And sometimes I am a weeping child

And thou art my tears' trusty nurse

And then you hold me in your motherly arms.

O you, today I am a summery man,

Be you my love's highest flame

And come to me clothed in the wind!

Now for a long time I was like a dark word,

I have brooded in solitude,

My seed was hidden in time,

Hidden in the heart's inner shelter.

Now I want to blossom with the spring,

I long for the hem of my silken garment

And love for the mild maiden

And the sea! oh let me sail from the port!

Oh blow wind in my red sails

And pull as a swan my ship away,

That dances drunk with delight

On warm waves! oh how young I am today!

The woman appears, swarming with sea birds,

Mary - must I also fail on the reef!

Reconciler, dear fair one,

I thank thee for thy good intercession.

In hatred my nerves lay bare,

You wrapped them in gentle love's gold.

Who wanted to see the beauty of life,

I saw only enmity, sick to the soul,

Only you, you looked beautiful and slender.

You were a balm when the soul was angry.

From thy beauty the soul was lulled,

By thy grace-giving reconciliation,

Now I dare again to go to women.

Let me behold thy gentle sweet likeness,

God-beautified in the circle of the beautiful!

God forgive me for the hardness of my heart!

Thou my pedagogue, let me see,

What in the crisis I had to learn,

When my friends left me

And I am so bitterly disappointed by women.

In my soul of bitter grief and horror

You were the balsam shrub wonderful,

The only clarity, when nothing was clear to me,

My comfort in my tears dew alone.

Christ was also near to me, when I the cup

Of suffering emptied, my bitter pain,

As I lay on the cross like the right robber.

And as I sought to love my God,

He drew me inward through solitude

And let himself be found in the inner heart.

As Jesus prayed in the grove of Gethsemane,

Praying with sorrow, there was no consolation for him,

No comfort for him in his mother's mildness,

As his sorrow with sweetness sang Friedrich Spee;

When Jesus bore all men's sorrow and woe,

Carried on the cross as an image of misery

And was godforsaken and cried so wildly,

The Virgin was as pale as snow to him.

But I, who follow as a sinner

The Lord in his human passion,

Who am not as holy as the Son of God,

I am comforted by a cloud of balm,

Mary in the midst of loneliness:

You make my bitter suffering on the cross sweet!

You ask me how I celebrate Easter?

I myself lived for weeks in the Passion,

Forsaken of God and of man,

And sang Psalm Twenty-two to the lyre.

When God my heart's hardness forgives

And remembers the resurrection on his throne,

What will become of me there? What do I know?

But I care not for Easter eggs,

Except for the red Easter egg,

Which, as Greek legend has told it,

Mary Magdalene took

And had given as a gift:

From this egg the bird comes to life,

Then I pray that I too may be alive.

My life, my hope, my delight,

I want to thank you for the good sister

Who was my shepherdess in my wavering,

In my staggering before the wormwood barrel.

My life, my hope, my delight,

Show thy beauty on the body of the slender one

And hold me by her swaying hips,

That all my inward sun may glow to thee.

The gentle courtesan with her sweet charms,

The thinker with her gifts of mind,

Yes, every woman appears to me as your image.

Madonna of my love falconry,

Guide the little bird through Eros' wilderness,

You may guide him to the bright heaven.

My heavenly kingdom, where God meets me,

O open thyself to the blessed vision of God!

Enlighten my eyes, dear Lady,

When God's word answers my wooing,

Be thou with me, that God's word may bless me!

Transform all my tears' dew

Into pearly gates to the golden building!

And when the stream of life rains down,

O cup of love, make me a cup,

That I may catch the stream of grace within me!

And when I come to the tree of life,

The tree of life, more beautiful than my dream,

Then give me the wet pomegranate!

Be thou paradise to me, a poor robber!

Prophetess, not in speaking, but in being,

Perfect in likeness,

Is thy holy personality

Dissolved in God as dew dissolves in wine.

From life comes your life, you alone

Are already the Goddess in eternity,

As I, at the end of this time of grace

I want to be like him in the most blessed union!

A God-man came to redeem us all,

Men-gods we shall all become,

Human-Goddes you are already completely perfected, woman!

In you I will enjoy God's nature

In new heavens and on new earths,

With you united in eternal God's sight!

Not whom they devised in their sin,

The Pharisee and the scribes‘ God,

Not whom the blasphemers of the saints have honoured,

I seek the God of the deep and of the winds,

Who in the darkness of death's gullet

A dark light appears, whom those resisted,

Who sought only the pleasures of this world,

Grant that I may find the God of sorrows,

The Son of God in his most difficult hour,

That I may be closed in his wound,

That I may suffer with Jesus in my sorrows,

That I may die with him, him in my mouth,

With thy bosom, O Pieta, in union,

That the morning star may rise in my heart!

Mary, my death is dedicated to you,

Let me not miss thee in my dying,

Lay my cool limbs on the pillows

And nestle me at thy red mouth,

Thy mouth be sweet as Jesus' wine and bread,

Then awake my soul with kisses,

With rivers of life from God's grace,

As a river of life carry my soul's boat

And then receive me in the port

And clasp me in thy fair arm

And present me to the throne of grace!

Not without thee do I meet the Word,

The Lord not without thy grace's charm,

Thou gracious mediator to the Son!

In all eternity wed me to thee,

That my soul may behold thy beauty,

The bride of love's fire of grace,

My soul's only joy!

I give myself to thee, when I toil and am tormented

And when the wormwood doth thaw upon me,

When the cold hour of death dawns on me

And when I am in purgatory!

All-holy Jerusalem, in you

Is my home, my heart's home,

The garden of my infinite bliss!

Enchanted by the beauty of your gaze

I sang to thee love songs, O sweet rhyme

Of all my love, dear God's adornment!

In beautiful glow the rose blossomed for me,

In a blue mantle the flower came blue,

The lotus flower swam in the dew of the pond,

A pink flower blossomed for me in the moss.

I am the light, the easy and the loose,

But you are the gracious woman,

In whom I see all the beauty of God,

Thou jewel in my heart's box,

Thou wak'st in the veil of heaven's alder,

Thou art the shell and thou art the pearl,

As beauty shines above my sea.

In God you are perfect and complete,

Thou hast given me thy love's grace,

Beloved wife, I love thee dearly!

I long for flesh from my flesh,

I long for bone from my bone!

You know what I long for with my soul,

How I want to be embraced by love!

I love you! And my soul's pain

Is also: I long for a woman!

Oh, if only I longed for you alone!

Tree of life, let your dew drip.

When I see you in the green garden,

Then your dress is red like a rose,

Thy mantle is like the sea and sky blue.

Worship I offered you with my heart,

I offered you excessive adoration.

But who, Mary, will satisfy my desire?

O dear Lady Mary, I am not whole,

Torn asunder I lie in the labyrinth.

Lead me out by a red rope,

To a day where beautiful joys are.

If I want to pray in the morning, my love,

I find only the image of the girl, who is white,

A sultry summer wind blows in me

And soul and senses grow hot.

And I long for paradise,

I lack so much, I am a great missing.

Do I suspect you, dear wife, smile softly,

My poor soul grows thirsty.

I drag myself on daily without strength

And thirst for the sap of the tree of life!

When you appear, then you say: Dear children!

Then my cheek reddens with shame,

As if I were a raging sinner;

Ah, you say: My dear bridegroom!

My friend and my beloved! whom I took

A companion in my heart,

Who smiled when I came with smiles,

Who will walk with me in green gardens!

We want to become like a couple in spring,

I'll hold your slender, your beautiful hand

I will adore, you will recognize me,

You will lead me in love's light land.

Let me be the only one chosen

Who unites with thee in love's torment!

As Leukothea came to Odysseus,

So come to me, for I am drowning!

I am lame in emaciated loins,

So may you beckon with your veil!

I would drink your love's kisses,

That through love I may grow strong again!

I would sink into a soft meadow,

You white cloud above the green park!

I lie closed as in a coffin,

In my veins only Lethe water flows,

The eternal loneliness is so bad

And everything becomes paler to me

And wearily I drag myself to a weary death.

O come in a dress like hot love red!

100

The Japanese cherries blossom and the almond trees,

The crocus and the yellow daffodils,

On the silken hems of the maiden fall

The long curls dyed henna red.

In the sunshine the young rams buck,

Who are proud of the horns of their power.

Jove will lure Europe as a white bull,

From Tyre to Crete she was brought.

Lovers smile softly and sweetly and gently,

The girls and the men arm in arm.

How beautiful, nature, is your spring splendour!

The girl laughs and glows with sweet charms!

Only in me, Mary, the darkness remains,

No ray of light falls in my sadness.

101

Today I walked by graves and cypresses,

By a mausoleum and by marble stones,

Where everything fought against oblivion

And wanted to be immortal on earth too.

Each one is alone in his death

And must leave the beloved of all.

A last sigh, last torment flees from the heart.

Nothing can be grasped any more.

Loving and hating are over.

But he who loves will rise loving!

Queen of nations and races,

I will see you then as my beloved!

Come to meet me, take me to your breasts!

After a time of suffering, give eternity of lust!

102

I found you, Mother of Sorrows, under the cross,

When God gave you to me as a spiritual mother.

At the same time you were aware of the highest charms,

You almond tree, almond blossom, almond stick.

Eros whips me and chases me to the grave,

There be the most beautiful of the beautiful,

Glorious grace to me,

To reconcile the bitter and the sweet.

How weary I am of all the moaning and groaning

And sighing for the dear girl's quietness.

Is there any hope? May you crown me

Soon with the peace of true wisdom!

You make life's bitterness sweet to me,

Lead me from the vale of tears to paradise!

103

I cry for love! Night always reigns

In my loneliness and my desert.

Whether my soul then wakes in vain?

Must through the night Mary's mystic?

Promised bliss of wisdom's breasts,

When may I taste this spiritual joy?

O constellation above my seashore,

May you cover me with your mantle!

May you awaken the benighted soul

And lead me into the sweet morning light!

Since terrors of deep nights frighten me,

I long for thy face,

To behold God's light in thy face,

God's beauty, the epitome of women!

104

I who have been rejected by happiness, dear mistress,

Let my soul's woe be fruitful,

Let my soul, this poor fool,

Be acquainted with wisdom, that I may see,

That I may see the black snow that veils my gloom:

Wisdom's joy, wisdom's sweetness

Of divine light, reflected in the lake

Of the corrupt soul, bride of eternity!

Let my love's lasting sorrow

Flow into wisdom's inner peace,

To my soul's woe, which cries out terribly,

By wisdom's grace do me salvation,

That wisdom may heal me, gentle and quiet,

So make me wise by thy grace!

105

People are laughing, looking for red eggs,

They walk happily in the light of the sun,

The pagans celebrate Christ's joyful feast,

Nature awakens and blossoms in colourful delight.

The black water in the barrel of gloom

I am destined for hopelessness

And tragedy. Out of the eye-well

Sorrow looks, tearful sorrow.

Compassion is my lifetime,

Alone I bear my cross, as yesterday so today

And tomorrow. When comes from eternity

Into my spirit of the Holy Spirit joy?

See my soul, O Mary, tremble,

Fate wants to embitter me all the time!

106

O Job's mistress, how hard is everything!

Why have I been chosen to suffer?

Wretched am I, despondent, weak and empty

And feel lost in the vale of tears.

Then you speak, O Lady, to my ears:

Breezes of spring wafted in the lily garden,

Where lover and beloved swore love,

And made their bed in the balsam beds.

Then at my mournful dark prayer

All at once comes light in my soul.

The words sowed seeds in my soul,

And the girl's face blossomed in my heart:

What would Easter joy be without her?

I thank you alone for everything, Mary!

107

Queen of wisdom, all knowledge

Paralyses my soul that knows not how to live.

I wanted to kiss under dreams of blossoms

And yet must give up every wish of my heart.

I am too dull to strive for the light,

And yet cannot bear the darkness.

I am entangled in the weaving of my fate,

I once longed for other days altogether.

Passions storm, burn, chase,

I burn in Eros' furnace,

No angel comes to cool my woes,

Which I call earthly purgatory.

From all this hopelessness

I cry to thee, woman in the sun's dress!

108

You, mistress of my heart, may slay

Unholy, suffering desire

In me, redden my heart with the love of God

And kill all desires that resist!

Only one desire will I honour further:

To reach the goal of holiness!

You may teach me the ways to that end,

The way of eternity in the valley of time,

Lead me the narrow way to the entrance wide,

That I may enter into the rest of my soul!

Let me accept all that I suffer,

Give inner peace to my spirit.

Make my soul peaceful, calm, quiet,

That what God wills I may will.

109

Total love I want, homage,

Worship to thee, Mary!

Make young my worn-out soul

And let enslavement end before men!

The search for woman, I will turn

To thee, thou mayest receive the desire,

In exchange you may give all of yourself to me,

That we may cling to each other intimately!

Drink the tears from my cheeks,

Let all my tears kiss thy lips!

Appear beautiful in my anguish

And bed me in thy purple pillow,

My resting-pillow be in thy heart,

Of thy love and my sorrows wet!

110

Advocate and mediator with the Lord

And my dear wife, you looked on

The pain, the bitterness in every core,

The loneliness, the desert and the spell,

You sent me the consolation of heaven then

In a letter from Saint Edith Stein!

You knew what my soul was pondering,

How my desire was the source of pain.

I almost want to be in a monastery,

Consecrated to you alone as a bridegroom,

You gave me the host from the shrine

And consecrated my soul to God's Lamb.

But women are a mystery to me...

Mary, may I see you once!

111

Queen of the souls that have gone home,

My grandmother's soul is entrusted to you,

I will count on your mercy,

Thou olive branch and thou heavenly dove!

Since I am in the Ecclesia of Rome

Now go on pilgrimage and pay homage to God,

Be her soul with me as aroma

From Jesus' balsam bed and work increase

Of faith, which I, in witnessing the way

I want to remember the woman who was secluded

At the holy conversion,

Which I have known. O lead her into peace,

To the paradise of milk and honey,

Who took my mother's place!

112

You shrine of the Word, give the word of instruction,

Thou bosom of the dawn, send the light!

Let me rest in the will of God, in the haven,

Do not drive me away from the peace of your heart!

The day begins with a poem of praise,

In the sun's robe may you appear!

Give me fullness for complete renunciation,

Lead me to the bed of balm, when I must weep!

May you unite me with God's breath,

Easter blossom, let me see your smile!

Be all you to me, I am none!

Come to fan clouds of gloom from my brow,

Let me affirm this new day,

Help me to bear my cross with joy!

113

Mother of all goodness,

To rest at thy breast I will expect,

To walk, O gardener, in thy garden,

To bring you an iris blossom.

O Queen of Carmel, I lack peace,

Because my thoughts stare like weapons,

I know nothing of the sweetness

Of sweet, tender love. I am tired of thinking,

I want to look again at my life's suffering,

Madonna, to you, in sweet sunsilk,

And suck the juice from the apples of life!

O Queen of Carmel, give me strength,

To mourn the night of solitudes

And to shudder gazing at thy beauty!

114

Thou night that Michelangelo

Has given in the statue, O drip your peace

From thy breasts upon the weary of thought

And let him into the beautiful dreamland.

O night, from thy bosom come mild

The slumber juices, sweet as rotten south.

I will offer thee both body and soul,

That thy mercy may recompense all my woe.

Queen of the night from Mount Carmel,

Ambrosian hymns I would sing

Of thy consolation, awaked sleeper.

I bring my sheep, O shepherdess,

Into thy fold, where I shelter myself,

O angel-woman, in thy wings.

115

All my longing for the mothers became

In me the longing for the Dear Lady,

The woman of universe, beautiful and tender.

And when I see a woman's soul

In eyes like Italy's blues seas,

Grace adds to my want and my lack.

I would in a woman's sea drown

My yearning soul to surrender.

You are the Eternal Woman, the anointed,

In you my longing is gathered,

Garden of God, city of light and jewels,

Thou island of the blissful, thou May,

Paradise blossoms in your bosom.

God is sun to me in the chalice of the rose.

116

Mary, you perfect image,

Lead me to the archetype, to the essence of God,

Instruct me and convert me mildly,

Let me read in thy beautiful soul,

Thou beautiful scripture with love's exegeses,

Show me wisdom as my bride,

She has been like a lily,

When she trusted herself to Solomon as his bride.

He who can see in your heart, sees

The soul of all life, God's spirit,

The breathing power that comforts,

In whose flame all longing circles.

O figurehead on Peter‘s ship,

Lead me to God - the night, the sea, the mother.

117

You are not the stone Madonna

In some dim chapel,

You are the invisible sun in the night,

Who bathes me in her love's wave.

I am a fickle fellow,

I have denied thee in the noisy circle,

You stand up for me in my place,

That always I know of thy graces.

Preserve me in the love-glow of May,

Thou longing of my sighing nature,

Surround me with thy love softly,

That I may find in thy heart the trace

Of the Most Holy Trinity -

And write the cross in me in joy and sorrow!

118

Thou golden one, walking on the moon,

We beseech thee in fiery Egypt,

Appear thou, acting in love upon us,

Raise us from graves, raise us from crypts,

We consecrate our hearts in vows,

Grant that life may laugh again!

The ships on the rivers of the dead bobbed,

Release them from the bosom of night,

Shimmer us in all beauty's splendour!

And girls in light skirts skip too

And their souls glow sweet and gentle

And they veil themselves in braided curls,

As long as we breathe, our fidelity lasts,

Golden, bashful and shy!

119

For this is called mother: womb of the world space,

In which the soul is concealed as a child.

For this is Mother: the silence of a dream,

In sweet gentleness like a May wind.

When children are safe in the night,

Then through motherly tenderness.

The mothers blossom like lime trees mild

And hold a warm drink ready.

Mysterious woman's soul, wide

And very sublime in majesty and humility,

To the Mother of God she is veil, garment

And mirror of her sorrowful melancholy.

Mysterious femininity is

Hidden in the divinity of Saint Mary.

120

The masters frighten me, O Queen,

They are all so deep and so great.

I give myself to children's games

And dream of your motherly womb.

Give me my own song, my own lot,

My own sorrow and my own joy.

Show me the pink blossom on the moss

And a soul quieter than the people.

In new dreams lead me into the distance

And found me on a firm foundation.

Let your love's voice be heard, today,

That is called a softly fading silence.

Be the judge in the realm of poetry

And poetess and muse of my soul's love.

121

O Mother of all life, I will learn,

What mother means, from your image, woman.

Already shines for me from inner distances

The feminine secret, a vision.

And over life lies a veil of dew,

A breath, veiling the dream of woman's womb.

Surrounded by spring flowers sky-blue

The rose blooms in the middle.

All this is like fate. Fateless

I contemplate the destinies that come to me.

In everything grace moves mercilessly,

It draws with feminine gestures

Sister Life to the image of grace:

In you, mother of life, God is mild.

122

Today they have criticised me

And reviled my tragic song,

They said that my language was excessive and antiquated,

They knew not to whom Orpheus beseeched.

Therefore I keep my prayer secret,

I never cast pearls before swines.

My song like an ancient epic stands

And outlives the silly and the new.

My sweet rhymes you may rejoice in,

Which all but beg for your love

(But you love the beautiful, the shy and the timid

Love songs as antiques).

What is the noise of the world and folly to me?

My hymn is a sanctuary of God!

123

Perfect being is truly good,

Thou hast the fullest share of goodness,

Perfect thou redeemed by the blood,

Who once blossomed in the place of the skull.

Be thou my fate, mistress in mind,

Be thou the rock in the troubled sea,

Be thou the flame that glowed in my heart,

Queen of peace with an army of angels.

Come thou to my hermitage

And whisper in lovely-soft silence.

Who is the only true deity, who,

By what name do I honour wisdom?

O more beautiful than Samothrace's Nike,

Encompassing Mary to me Catholic!

124

Thou image of the Ecclesia, O look,

How Pharisees live beside disciples,

How thy beauty ravish'd, dear lady,

Philistines with the grey cobwebs.

Thou knowest of my hot striving,

But I shun the satiated in the masses.

What is the blood, the sacrament of vines,

What is it to eat Jesus Christ's flesh?

Sad tears wet my eyes,

Must I hear the history of the Church.

Let me forget the devil's weeds,

Let the deer roar for God's water.

Quiet my passion, O star of the seas,

Lead my mind to the really true doctrine!

125

Asceticism always created heavy suffering for me

And joy to me the sweetness in the senses.

Explain to me the way of sensuality

With all the gleam of sweet beauty within.

I would so gladly love a woman in life,

To reconcile me with the body created by God.

Then I would begin a new song

For you, most beautiful of all the beauties.

Alas, shall ideals sound to thee

So pale and pallid and without all blood?

Can my passion not crown thee,

Sacrament of the body for the highest good?

I want to burrow sensually into beauty,

Mary, cool my ardour by the woman!

126

Mary, in all lust, in all sorrow,

The poetic genius remains the same to me,

Let asceticism or sensuality reign,

But love-sympathy remains for thee.

Whether my soul cried out in pain,

Whether I emptied of suffering the bitter cup,

Whether I sang like Homer never

Of sea-lust and sweet summer sun,

I was lonely in the barrel of gloom,

I mingled with joyous men's tumult,

I suffered, and suffering was my delight,

I longed, and longing was my joy.

Whether joy of my spirit, sorrow of my loins -

Thy song of praise I cannot complete in life!

127

I think of the cool kiss of beauty,

That she once gave me in a dark night.

I must do without a second one,

Because love's happiness never smiles on me.

O dear lady, you have such great power,

I thirst so much, I must renounce for so long!

I long for sweet lips' splendour

And must despair in my loneliness!

The dark hour is the hour of dark lamentations,

The clouds weep in the downpours.

I would ask thee, O my lady,

May I once more kiss that fair one?

How I ache with thirst and renunciation!

To thee I'll write a poem of sweetest kisses!

128

You womb from which wisdom was born,

I will praise thee as the good fair one,

Chosen by eternal wisdom,

To show the way in heavenly planetary circles,

To show my human spirit with love the way

To the Empyreum, lamp of true teaching,

That I may see the bride of the God-fearing sages

As an idea on the crystal sea!

Worshiping the Father, Son and Holy Spirit

As deity I, God with female face,

To whom I swear the eternal wisdom's love

And do not leave her rose garden.

To the vision of the Godhead lead my spirit,

For thou knowest much to say of love!

129

Madonna, come in my hour of death,

When the demons lie in wait,

And apply balm to the wound of my heart

And shower me with a shower of delight!

So often, fate's wall has kept me

From gazing upon locked gardens of love,

How often in sad sorrow I have been deprived

And no beauty would make me happy!

Fulfilment of all longing you shall nod,

When my body is lowered into the churchyard meadow...

To all my sorrow answer with delight,

I'll sing my Hail to thee in paradises,

Then lead me to a love-tender

Union with God in Eden's garden!

130

I give you three days of my life,

Mary, when I was incredibly happy.

The tearful plea was not in vain,

The grace of God smiled so clearly,

The island of Baltrum was so wonderful

With dog-roses in the sunshine.

The beauty was evident by the sea

Happy too, and I was no longer alone,

She drank red wine with me in the evening

And told me of her deepest dream.

I thanked God for the end of my torment,

And I saw my fate on the sea's edge.

And in the night - the beautiful one nestled close -

I prayed the first rosary.

131

I float on the wings of music

And live day and night in a dream.

My singing, my longing is ancient,

My ideal is wet with sea foam,

Very softly the silk hem touches me at night

And lips I may kiss in dreams at night.

I always feel in the inner room

The longing for the blissful rivers of blessing,

For full paradisiacal pleasures,

And sometimes a dove's down touches me.

Beloved mistress, you and I must

Be content with our love's dream,

I see you only in my loveliest dreams

So blissfully beautiful in my soul‘s space.

132

Mary, such is the lot of men,

Who dwell in the dark valley of tears:

In vain is all they desire,

Disappointment follows all illusions.

Who will reward the poet with the wreath,

Who will cozen the lover with love?

Who can spare me from this insight:

That we only waste the long life?

Great is the longing, greater are the pains,

And no one has seen the meaning of fate.

With pining I plead in my heart

For light and consolation through the all-wise bride.

Hail to me! this life is not permanent

And God will end a shadow's sorrow!

133

My God, keep me from such burning,

I cried to the Father, who did not hear me.

Now it only remains for me to recognise this burning,

That disturbed the peace of my soul.

Now all that remains is for me to seize the ardour

That bewitched me, to appropriate flesh upon my rib.

Now the call that the stag roared can only be

An echo in my heart, Echo on my heart's cliff.

So flow grace over my lip,

That I may sing the hymn of fire,

That with my soul's feeler I tap

To the idea in sweet beauty's veil.

Is this the answer to my prayer? Ah,

Why then, that I may pray no more?

134

Mary, thank the Godhead for her likeness,

Which in the realm of love I have seen,

In a metaphysical event

I was united with my soul's bride.

Within me a universe blues

Of the radiance of the blue flower, that woman,

Who, for the fineness of her skin

Is less than the deity whose vision

In unspectacular beauty inaccurate

The woman pierced with divine love,

As a rose is made beautiful by the dew,

As God with grace anoints her face.

So was the woman - you woman of all women -

In you a mirror for the vision of God!

135

Mary, Mother, Queen of the Muses,

Take thou from my hand the scribe's pencil!

I sang the eyes and I sang the bosom,

I sang the woman to whom I lost myself;

I sang the pains in ancient choirs,

I sang Gethsemane and Golgotha,

Who pledged my love's allegiance to thee,

To thee more beautiful than Urania;

I sang the divinity that my eye could not see,

I sang in love song and psalms praise.

And cried over me also, there, there he is!

I longed only for paradise!

I have written enough, I am weary of labour.

You let me into the Garden of Eden‘s South!

136

O woman, today an old song came back,

That I sang to a girl white and red.

I believe she now lives in heaven's happiness,

Though her death was full of evil cruelty.

She was too pure for this earth's excrement,

She always had to fight with demons.

Her praise now blazes like a flame,

She now dwells where her angel dwell.

She is now in the zones freed from death,

Into which she entered through her last fall.

Love will reward her in Jesus,

He will purify the virgin to the ideal.

In her dream she saw God as a dove,

Thy Son, O Mother of Jesus, was her faith.

137

Madonna, Lady of my heart, today

I will baptise with thy dew the woman,

She is my pain, she is also my joy,

She was the parable of my vision of God.

I was in heaven in a dream, in the building,

The city beyond, the pain endured.

And one was (I don't remember exactly,

Whether it was Moses) who walked with me there.

The fullness of life was all my plea,

When I asked you for the hour of death.

Immortal in spirit-body I walked in the midst

Of the living, I lovingly approached

To the woman in whom I saw God's Soul -

And I will call her Urania.

138

I can now understand your humility.

In my godforsakenness was far

My God, was dead, as corpse only to see,

In your pomegranate womb as a seed nucleus,

But thou wast the sea-star to me,

You were the comforter in my soul's darkness,

Mother of life and of the dead Lord,

The light of God shone in thy gleam,

You were my delight in my dreamy gloom,

Who vaults over me as the heavens,

The universe's only carbuncle,

Mary, all my self was yours.

You now humbly step back, O woman,

To fill me with God's sight!

139

Madonna, today I hear of Brazil.

Latin American culture

Resembles red orchids, resembles jungle lilies,

Poetry is as fertile as nature,

The girls wear loincloths only

In Sao Paolo at the carnival.

I want to go to the sugar loaf the narrow track

And to the Amazon's forest hall,

I want to see the Indian girls

Dance like hummingbirds in flight,

The brown women and the pale women

Gather around your statue

And adorn thee with flowers and with serpents,

Which thou, Virgin, art ready to receive.

140

I long for a woman's voice,

For a warm, tender embrace.

Through these melancholy waters

I swim now to thee, O Mother of Mercy.

Consider me in your mother-warm,

In thy dear, womanly heart,

Hold me as an infant in your arms

And quench my soul's thirst and pain.

I will also light my spirit's candles

For the Godhead, Eternal Wisdom, God's soul!

God lift me as gold from dark ores,

Wisdom I shall not lack this day,

God-soul unloose my soul

And lay, Mary, me in thy bosom.

141

Eternal woman, in my imagination

You came, Immaculate Queen,

With crown on the moon walking

Out of dark cosmos into the inner sense.

You laid down your cool crown

And showed me your beautifully adorned arm.

Woven in long brown hair

I am warmly nestled on your lap.

Compassionately you wept that God would have mercy,

In a rose-red dress I saw you sitting,

You held out your white hand with charm,

I kissed your fingertips tenderly,

Which lay blessings on my brows.

Then you blow away on inward ways.

142

O dear woman, I thirst greatly for love,

O love me with all your heart!

I blossom with the shoots of spring,

I sing languishingly in the bird's peep,

I am the poet who remained lonely,

For whom no woman fulfilled his dream,

Who yearns insatiably. Mary, be

More than the image from my dreams foam,

Give me love from God's inner space,

Still my heart's insatiable longing!

I believe the uncertain, hardly hope,

But love, love burns in my veins!

I feel so hopelessly lost!

(And no mother once gave a new birth to me.)

143

A girl looked at me with smiling eyes

And long brown hair, she was so young,

From her lips I wanted to suck kisses

And joy for my heart in Job's dung.

In musical enthusiasm

The second woman went forth with her full mouth,

Her eyelids trembled with weary sweep,

The whole countenance lovely and wholesome.

And a woman makes my soul sore

And love pains her fair charm works.

Eyes lightnings! Lips dates! round

The pretty breasts! and the soul warm!

O dear woman! - love‘s sacrament

Reaches none to me, who recognises no woman.

144

Mary, what does Ecclesia mean?

Are the orthodox scholars

Close to the truth above all others?

Ah, have they not often lied?

Were not the words of the Scriptures exaggerated

And not hated nature and body and woman?

And was not the flagship never lost in the waves?

Was not the vision of God often heretical?

Mary, is the Church a woman,

The voice of God in the pain of children?

Does this woman lead to a new vision of God,

The children to look into their hearts?

And is the Church the Bride of the Messiah

And is entrusted to the whole Godhead?

145

So now you have led me the ways

To the beautiful temple gate of wisdom.

Your motherly face adorns for me

The house of wisdom in the inner place.

She created the world in a word of love

And then lowered herself into thy bosom.

O pearl of shells, of the noble kind,

Thou hast become a portal without blemish.

Now wisdom stepped forward, bare of adornment,

Clothed only in thy pure flesh.

There went the divinity tremendously great

In the silent child inmidst the noise of the world.

Then you smiled mildly in sweet quietness

And became like your child, Wisdom.

146

Madonna Miriam, with that sweet name

I will call you. May Jesus send you,

That thou in me the seed of God may let live.

May you nod your head in love,

With your chaste eyes to me look,

Wide-eyed gazelle, pure soul!

With your beauty you can make me happy,

With bracelets and ornamental jewels.

I praise thee with the apple of my throat

And my still dreaming silence,

O Miriam, whom I choose in the night

As the womb of wisdom. May you show me

The eternal God's beauty in Paradise -

In the blissful garden thou in sweet silk!

147

Madonna, remember the May of love,

When you and Jesus and Urania

Only one glow has been in my mind

And since in this glow the Godhead was near

And the vision of paradise happened to me,

Since in love I consecrated myself to thee,

Since I saw your beauty in the picture

And your beauty in the summertime,

My reason for painful bliss,

And I wanted to unite with Jesus in you!

Then you led me on, gentle maiden,

I saw the new Eve's fruit like gold.

Now be Urania in you, Mary,

In love to me the veil of Sophia!...

148

I dreamed you in a marble image

Like a lovely Saturnia,

Of maidenly form, so graceful,

And beautiful fell the robe in waves there.

In love I saw the curve of thy belly,

The skirt's material fell to thy knee.

You were the mother of the Ecclesia,

Your domordial likeness was she.

The beggars crouched at your feet like

Prodigal sons of thy grace hereafter.

A soldier of war on his stallion cried out,

Because the queen of peace drove him away,

The Muse of Peace in her white dress,

Who loved youth in summertime.

149

I call thee the Queen of Muses,

Every night in my dreams I'm girthy,

As tonight, and lay in thy bosom,

The singer, give milk of wisdom

And sweet wine and work sweetest songs,

As Greeks, Romans, or Indians sang.

I am afraid of the great work,

I have less wisdom than the children,

I am not the conqueror of passions,

A lover often stronger than a pious one,

I long in the inward winter

For sweet sensual heat and sweet summer.

So I can sing only with my Eros

Thee, Charis! as a Catholic Homer.

150

Beloved, thou ardour in all loving,

Accept these sonnets, O dear woman!

I sing thee with longing in the senses,

I sing thee, O May-flower blue!

In thy chaste chalice of divinity dew,

My life, my bliss, my delight!

Enlighten me to a living vision of God,

Let me see God in my breast!

Only of thy love am I conscious,

My faith has become nebulous,

Only you have to love me, only you have to love,

You must love me, my beloved, my pure dove!

A cup of sweet mixed wine is your womb,

You blissful paradise of the A and O!

SECOND SECTION

Mysterious and hidden mother,

Wrap my pain in your mantle!

God gives the nightingales their food

And is the Lord also over all commerce,

But before the rose the singer's walk is

In vain! woe is me! so all in vain!

Mary, let me but the almond of wisdom

Desire with the fire of my life!

I sing, the stones of the gates of Thebes

Erect themselves for thee, O gate of heaven,

Thou content of my weaving, of my weaving,

Lady of wisdom, mother of the Word.

God gives food to the poor nightingales,

Be mystic rose to them, O Mother of God!

O star of the sea, shining evermore,

Virgin of the sea, give stillness to my sea,

Put all my passions to rest

And let me be a mirror of the pure fullness

Of God's love! Quill, O love, quill,

Thou source of my joy, create in the void

Love's lair, the soul without shell

Seek thee, O Bridegroom, thou her desire!

Come, mediatrix, resist the passions,

Come, draw love from my heart!

Keep me, I will not consume myself

In idolatrous idolatry of creatures.

I fear a love misfortune, woman, a heavy one,

O reign in me, O Lady, star of the sea!

When God created me at the hour of conception,

He hid me in thy womb.

The soul in the prison of the flesh

Must borrow life from the life of God,

God gives, there shines the light in the morning of life,

Then you smiled motherly and sweetly.

I learned to walk and went through happiness and sorrow,

But thy loving-kindness, O Mother, stayed with me.

Away I went, my soul devoted

To the harlots, fed on swine's fodder,

The sky was misty and gloomy,

But you watched over me, O Mother.

When my grandmother went home, sweet and soft,

You brought me home to the kingdom of heaven!

I will be happy to leave the valley of tears,

Mary, I secretly long:

Come, my shepherdess, come to feed your lamb,

You may receive me at the gates of heaven,

Yea, over my dying bed hang,

O Virgin, as with David was Abishag,

With arms adorned with rosaries embrace

The dying man on his hopeful day,

Who often wept before thy image,

Will see thee now and be with thee alone

As bridegroom and bride in the rose garden

Of paradise! I am all yours,

Only you, only you, I beseech you, heart of Mary!

Then lead me to the heart of the Messiah.

And when I enter into personal judgment,

Asks God if I have loved in my life.

I consecrate my life's light to thee, O Lady,

And will give thee all my loves,

The lovely one, my trembling and my quaking,

The dear child with his angel's laugh,

The sister you may lift to heaven,

Protect the little children from the dragon.

I want to consecrate all my dreaming, all my doing

To love unfathomably deep.

May you, mother of fair love, keep watch

And my sins, O girlfriend, forgive me.

Give me a share of your love, O heart,

Lead all my loves heavenwards!

You bride of the Eternal, with whom he created

The new creation, the union

Of word and flesh, God's call

You have answered gentle and sweet and young,

Thou bride of the Son in torment,

Co-sufferer of redemptive woes,

Married to Jesus by the sword's edge,

Since pain for salvation united you both,

You bride of the spirit, as the flames spread

Over the earth the embers of love,

Since you received pure and in snow-white silk

The fullness, all gifts flood of grace,

To me, who trust in the Trinity,

To me you are beautiful, very beautiful bride.

In my heart your throne is prepared,

You young mother, spouse of no fault!

You are the star that guides my steps,

Like a cloud thou wrappest my soul.

No open grave be thy singer's throat,

For he praises thee as the mother of all life,

O virgin, stars crown like jewels

And sunshine surrounds thee not in vain.

Let me with all fervour of hot aspiration

Enter into thy inner chamber,

The slave with the sweetness of floating,

For in thee God hath broken me the bread of wisdom.

Only your purity can cleanse me

And unite me eternally to Lady Wisdom.

Wilt thou bring me a wife, O love,

Like Rachel, and like Leah invent her,

Contemplative, and also fruitful to my instincts,

Let her be the active one, let her be the lime tree,

That I may find her even in the sick bed,

That she may make me sultana cakes,

That she with a myrtle garland

Should come to me on the day of my joy,

That she may be a prophetess, guiding my way

To you, O Mother of true freedom,

That she may show me a new page

In the wise book of life of the united trinity!

But you want to keep me close to you,

Lead me up the path to God's marriage bed.

Behold my little sister who loves me

Like a shepherdess by faith,

Confirm the word that she wrote to me:

You think only of me... - The leaf

Of the letter I lay in the treasure of the city

Of the Lord. We consecrate ourselves to the heart of Jesus

And day by day we are filled with the word

And we shelter with all our sorrows

In your mantle. May shine the candles

For my sister also as a prayer

And lift from the ores of our suffering

The gold of love that never fades.

Sister loves me like no one else.

Let us be pearls in your sea.

You came at midnight, O sister,

You looked at me with gentle eyes, O dove.

The stars in the tree of the world like nests

Thou didst leave and come into my bower.

Thou pious soul, I am dust from dust,

Thou hearest the dust of mother earth pray,

My dust is enlivened by the blood of the grape

And of the words that wafted in the spirit.

Sing, O turtledove thou of Eden

And bring thy peace to my girlfriend,

O Dove of Solomon, the exegetes

Conceal thee, thou queen of the hereafter,

But I love thee! I will not murmur,

And if I suffer, I will trust your cooing!

Blood bridegroom, Madonna, I call myself,

For in the night my blood has flowed,

When disaster came to me in disgust

And Satan's fury rose against me,

And the red tide gushed forth with a roar,

But on the other shore, O woman,

As a sign of my hope, faithful and good,

You appeared in a red skirt and a blue cloak,

The child in your arms, in this dark vision

Thy dear son of the beyond was sun to me,

Who, rising from the dew,

Has sent thee, O heavenly Madonna,

And showed me gardens on the morning star,

To him who lives for the mother of his Lord.

And if I took musk and rose oils

And wash my mouth with rose water,

The stained soul will not be clean,

That wallows in the water of strife and sin.

How shall I receive thee in that hour,

When I am stirred up by the surging desire,

As I sink worshipping on the ground

Before a sinful creature, foam on the sea?

Who will help me to empty myself?

Who with love covers all my blemish,

Who can ward off temptation and trials,

If not Mary, Jesus' tabernacle?

I am not worthy to see your purity,

But you give the grace of deep unity.

You royal lioness, teach

With strength thy young lion,

To go on the prowl! I roar and desire,

Lead me through the wilderness to rest!

As a vine, mother, I see always

Thy crimson grapes bring forth

From thy life force. O flow in a moment

And make me a vineyard, a vine-leaf.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, I believe

In thy consolation with childlike trust,

I love thee, girlfriend, gentle dove of peace,

I bless you in the circle of dear women.

Thorn bush and mother of sorrows, a covenant

I make with you, Mary, from mouth to mouth!

O queen of hearts, a bad dream

Makes me despair in the dark day.

Madonna, spread the hem of thy mantle,

That nets thee the tears of my lamentations.

How many enemies have I in these days,

How many are they who spurn me!

Then you, Lady, must tell me your love,

Let the airs of thy love blow,

Let me see thy wisdom in the work,

For I am hid deep within thee.

Let others quarrel in marriages,

To love God, Lady, is my life's purpose,

To love God, Our Lady, and thy lovingkindness,

Thou givest me in tribulation patience.

Madonna, you chose your poet,

Thou hast created for thy praise the nightingale.

The rose, how thy lights transfigure

The rose that blooms behind the wall,

The unattainable, the womb of space,

Idolatrously adored, the red,

The source of life for the flood of tears,

Sorrow in life, heavenly joy in death!

You send me, Mary, look, your messenger

Will gladly pierce the thorn in its bosom,

To stir up that beautiful note

That God makes ring in man's ears!

The beautiful rose that thy singer saw,

Is likeness of thee, O mystical rose!

O virgin, behold thy mourning swan,

How sadly it swims in the kingdom of shadows,

How majestically it swims its course

In solitude on the mirror-clear pond,

How its songs sob, soft and feminine,

How a wailing cry comes from its throat,

How like the departed it is already

And plunges into the dark bliss of the soul!

Let no stele be erected to his memory,

Erected, for he flew to bliss,

There lives, in the splendour of sidereal jewels,

In white swan's wing dress the maiden!

God made the queen of the swans

In bliss for the mourning swan!

Is not, beloved, God's love spurned

By Satan's sons, fools and idiots?

Has God sown his word of love in vain

And was the word of salvation lost to him?

How art thou, my lady, at the gates of the heart

And knock, but they remain closed!

They stuff the world into their ears

And remain comrades of vain vanity!

That is why my tears have flowed,

What master and mistress suffer, I suffer too!

But from the dew of tears have sprouted

The flowers that with prayer's breath

Scenting the sky to show love,

To Jesus and Mary, united with me!

I want to invent pet names for you

Of an inexpressible tenderness,

To call thee honeybee in the lime-trees,

You virgin of the sky in your ether dress,

Eternal Eve from eternity

And marvellous Schullammyth,

My bliss, my love's woe,

You star of the north, sun mine and south!

I wrap myself in thy mantle weary,

Thou wouldst, girl, kiss my tears,

Kiss the tears from my eyelid,

For kissing, maiden, is all we must!

I kiss thee with prayer, Prayer is loving!

Hail to me, I am true to thee in death!

I do love your little Jesus,

So dear, the angel of God, my shepherd!

Mary, all I ever wrote to you,

All your words led me to Jesus,

The love of God with much love adorned,

That I find in your arms so sweet!

The angel walks in the valley among myrtles,

There I see also the wet fleece of the Lamb,

As I greet the gateway to the heavens,

The rock, saviour, God's favourite child!

In you, Mary, my paradise,

The tenderness of little Jesus I find

I find tonight as I let myself be loved,

You embrace me and I embrace your child.

Whether about God I read today in the Bible

And am determined to wrath and anger,

God comes, to inflict upon me bitterness and evil,

Because I have dedicated my ardour to the idol?

Mary, but you, you are good to me,

Thou wilt give me holy knowledge:

God, God, this is the blood in your blood,

That is the living in your life,

The breath of your breeze, your swell and your weave

Is all in God and God is all in you,

Your beginning and your end and all your striving

Goes to you from God, from God to you,

I am yours. Men are but thieves,

But God gives you his eternal love!

O Mother Miriam, sing me to sleep

And lull me with heavenly music.

Today, when a sword of pain has struck me hard,

I will take refuge in dreams. Fly

Here, crowned with eternal love's victory,

And into my innermost chamber climb,

Into which, leaving all, I quietly ascended,

There I long for thee, Mary,

Every night my soul is awake,

When will I see you again in my dreams?

Thank you, how beautifully your love spoke to me,

You golden sun in the tree of life,

As the moon shine in my night

And sing in my soul softly and gently.

I told you my sad feeling,

That a girlfriend lacks cordiality,

That she is alienated from me, cold at heart,

Then you warmed me in the sun's dress,

You smiled in this autumnal time,

As if the golden sun were already crowning me

With God's heartfelt mercy,

To whom I am reconciled through the cross.

Thou didst send me for comfort the camel's tones,

Which many a praise hath born in me,

Then smiled so sweetly and gently the fair one,

Who - Glory to me! - chose me as her friend.

She left her aura in my room,

My Laura, my heaven's Houri...

The night is cold, Mary, look, I'm crying,

Oh, your cloak my tears are netting.

I saw the girlfriend today, the fair mine,

My love, my heart's desire.

Mary, do not my veins burn

And do I not sink to my knees before the woman?

I want to embrace her, lean on her,

I want to recognise her in love.

Mary, will I never be happy in love?

I am spurned every night in my dreams.

To you, O Lady, to you I flee,

Dry my tears with the hem of thy veil!

Take me to thy hidden breasts,

Which I kissed in deadly pining!

I love you with such tenderness,

That my heart is silenced by love!

You epitome of beauty, maiden, O maiden,

I give thee my soul for ever!

See, I am dull with gloom, thou art clear

With love, and yet you suffer my sorrow.

Thy name is kept secret from all the multitude,

Which thy tongue, you do yourself consecrate to me,

With which my tongue blesses thee,

Mother in mantle, bride of God's throne!

I give myself to you for time and eternity,

Give me the love that your little son

Gives you every hour! Let every heartbeat be

To you and your son a cry of love!

My little Jesus, not of heresy,

My dear God, you know I adore you!

If I give my love to Mary, she

Give my love to thee, O Jesus, then

Give love as I can receive,

Give thy love through Mary's hands.

Cast thy spell on all coldness,

O fiery heart of Mary, love turn

To me daily, hourly, give me love

In many ways, O Heart of Mary,

Give me your heart, O Lady, and send

Me forth, and give me pain from your pain,

If my sorrow is also your sorrow! Let me inherit

The Lord's heart and let me die for love!

Mary, standing at the foot of the cross,

I consecrate my suffering to your heart,

Passion, desire for the kiss

Of the beautiful creature in fine silks,

You, shepherdess, may feed my soul,

I consecrate to thee the tears I must weep,

In thee will I bear the sorrow I humble,

May you unite me to the Crucified.

Must I fill the cup in olive groves

According to God's Father's will completely empty,

Then see me lying timidly on the stones,

Forsaking all desire with tears.

See me sinfully satisfy my desire,

You know I want nothing but God's will.

O virgin, virgin, sweet Sulamith,

I am a youth, love, I want to dance!

O thy brown lashes on the eyelid

Pierce thy knight like lances!

I throw you the fullness of my whole consecrated heart.

Consecrated heart to thee: 'tis thine own!

I give thee plants, I give thee bitter-trees,

Thou my song, my heart's shrine,

Thou my rose, my blue flower,

I will adorn thee with a thousand love songs,

Wreathe thee with laurel, with my glory,

Who looks into my heart shall behold thee!

Bind me with thy beauty's magic chain,

Let the singer of sonnets kiss thee!

O dear Madame Marie, I was not worthy,

To have the wife I so desired,

Whom I coveted as the image of thee

And honoured as the most beautiful likeness of God!

The will of God resisted my will

And yet my feelings are full of longing,

I long for nakedness and for tenderness,

and the soft play of love.

O woman, have mercy in the cool of the morning,

As my lips burst with pining!

Let the love of God wash through my flesh!

Cut Jesus a woman from his rib

And send the new Eve, Sulamithin,

Mary, a beautiful Schunemite!

Give me the power to save the dear heart,

Mary's heart, by your love's flame,

I'll bed the little friend's soul

In the red fleece of our dear lamb,

I will find her on the cross's trunk,

That you may unite her there with Jesus' suffering,

Be her mother, be her sister, be her nurse,

Be shepherdess to her, to feed the little sheep.

She is so gentle, humble and modest

And has an open ear for the knowledge of joy.

Detach her from the idolatry of the heathen

And teach her thyself with thy mouth.

Take all my love as supplication and prayer,

Mary, lead them into the Garden of Eden!

How strange are all in the church, thou,

How the sermon is not meant for me,

How I beg for freedom, peace, rest,

How is love's dark night angry,

As my heart swims in silent tears!

But wisdom is lovely, invisible,

But beautiful, because everything about wisdom

With God's love agrees. Even

She chooses the dumb from the noisy crowd,

In the flesh to attend his flesh.

O let me dwell in thee for ever,

May you spare me this day from bitterness,

For thou art a comforter, so gentle and sweet,

Thou dearest friend of mine in paradise!

O dear Lady, thy image on my wall,

Virgin of America, so true to life,

Gives me a glimpse of heaven's land,

Where your beauty shines forever,

O Lady, in the golden noon

Thy image of leafy shadows, twiggy tremors

And shone so clear as heaven:

How enraptured was thy young knight of love,

How did all the thunderstorms of passion

To heavenly peace and his sea to silence,

And sweet as honey was to him what long was bitter.

God's will is so sweetly exceeding,

That hath revealed his tenderness

In thy image and heart, fair maiden.

When sweetheart, friend, sister spurn me,

As if Jesus were spurned again,

I will look to thee, O most beloved.

And give thee all my woe as a prayer.

My golden house alone in darkness stands

And yet is your holy chapel.

You come when the autumn wind is harsh outside,

A breath that swirls around my life's wave.

Let it be night, let it be night! The night is bright

In thy golden loveliness, beloved.

You more than dream, you heaven of my cell,

My fate, to my salvation, hath saddened me,

For sadly I found thy tenderness,

My paradise and my eternity!

And when thou speakest: Pray, pray, pray!

My prayer is my open heart alone,

Opened is it to thee, thou new Eden,

Like your heart open from pain.

I offer on the altar of pain

My love, my love's suffering,

You offer my heart, you offer my heart

To the Saviour of Israel, the salvation of the Gentiles.

As the Mother of Sorrows, may you feed me.

And though I desire the happiness of the earth,

Sensual summers, sweet and gentle and silken,

Yet is my heart a shoreless sea

And every wave wants in thy harbour,

O star of the sea of blisses!

The world is cold. The one who used to love me,

The friend torments me with indifference.

Then I turn to thee: I am afflicted,

Thou art the comforter in all sorrow.

How long, my lady, in this dusty garment

Must I wander lonely through the vale of tears?

Alas, no one loves me in these times

And your confidant, love, is a stranger to all!

Thou art well pleased with me, O woman,

Thou showest my eye, my tear,

The fair one, fallen in gloom,

The fair, fair, fair Magdalene,

How she anointed wisdom with nards.

O my longing! come into my garden!

Where is thy peace, woman, and thy joy,

May I not part from my troubles,

Is opened to me in prayer this day,

I seek for my bliss the sufferings!

With passion to breathed silks

I sigh like a restless dog,

To gloat over love's sorrows sultry

And sing praise with a leaping mouth

And to the wound of Jesus' heart,

As burning desire pierces me through

And I am not well from love's sickness

And my flesh languishes as from murder!

Where is peace, joy, where, O woman?

But deep in sorrow I see your peace!

You change lead, O Holy One, into gold;

Turn bitterness into God's delight,

Make suffering and loneliness sweet to me

And sanctify the thorn in my breast!

I stand in the vale of tears, in dusty dust,

The booklet of my life tastes bitter to me,

I eat love's poison - unknowingly

You make honey of it for your knight!

Does God come in night and lightning and storm?

Breathe on me with spirit, with gentle whisper!

Calm the trembling of the sea within,

Let but the waves of fate ripple lightly!

Still deeper dwells thou than feeling of woe,

At the bottom of my heart rejoices in thy peace.

Mary, shall it be my martyrdom

Of love, that women should make me ashamed?

That they, who are my heart's sanctuary,

Let not their holy of holies be seen?

To build the temple of life on the twisted stone

Is it not to be rejected?

Trusting in the wound of my Lord's heart,

Is it not to suffer the pangs of your own heart?

You, hammer my nails into my flesh,

Let my weeping plead with heaven!

Drink my tears' drink, my blood's wine!

Give God, I have not suffered in vain!

O Paradise Madonna! all my longing

Is to sanctify her with my tears!

You are like the clear crystal glass,

Through which Jesus' sunshine shines.

Within me the grass of the garden blooms,

Since rose and dandelion are thine,

Since thy beauty, heavenly-beauteous, is mine,

Where I am beguiled by thy graceful gleam.

Radiant maiden, enter with a smile

And fill with thy grace my inmost room.

No one shall ever turn me away from thee,

I will walk with thee to holiness the paths

Love, love, guide always

My poor heart through thy rich grace,

Blessed one, and smile in quietness

And give me the tenderness of wisdom!

Forgive me, O Mary, and I too

Will forgive thee, should it go otherwise,

Than I would, Mary, surely

You will always stand by my side.

I would so like to see you once,

Love you, love, and no one else!

You know how ardently the feelings blow

To the guilty creature, that I love so well.

Shall Jesus I love alone? He

Is bridegroom, I his maid:

Am a goddess from the foam of the sea!

Ah no! I am but a poor tear!

Reconcile with me, Marie, reconcile

And let me not die of Haura's beauty!

My heart desires - your heart is all love,

Mary, give me heart from thy heart,

Turn passionate hot urges

Into tender love, faithful in all pain.

See in the nights of prayer candles

And all of renunciation's rain of tears,

Create love's gold from my suffering ores

And turn my passion into blessing.

I will lay the fair one in thy arms,

That thou mayest wrap her in thy soft mantle.

I will intercede for her always

And be joyful through my love's change.

And you, Mary, help me to renounce

And to see your love at all times!

Now you are gone, Mary, you are gone,

I miss you! Where then is your sweet radiance,

Where is your sweet voice's gentle word?

I remain faithful to you, I am all yours!

O Queen with your rosary,

Come to me again, life, hope, delight!

Let me dance before the ark of the covenant

To thee, most holy Madonna!

Wrap me in the golden sun of your mantle

And nourish me with thy white breast

And let me drink thy dew, O Bronne,

In my solitude the heavenly delight!

How can I be pious without you?

Beloved Virgin, you must come again!

I felt you and often saw you within,

Fair Madonna mine with turtledove,

Who now eludes my soul's senses,

Now you want me to believe you without looking!

You are the vine, mother, I am the grape,

Thou art the lioness that teachest her young,

Lady, you are my hope's helmet and bonnet,

Bliss that ever I desire!

The beautiful one whom my heart honours so dearly,

The child, the blessed, I will consecrate to thee,

Mary, my heart's hearth,

The bridal chamber, there I will set free wisdom,-

For all the chambers of my heart are thine

And you, invisible beauty, you are mine!

When in the night Saint Apollonia

My King Christ entered my chamber,

He allowed me to worship, yes,

To the mother of my Lord! In happiness and sorrow

The spirit, the heart's fluttering, put me!

The Lady of My Love sheltered me in her mantle

And hid me from the Pharisee's hammer

And from the scribes' words;

Enraptured me! I followed her walk

And heard the song of the seraphim!

The Lady gave me the almond of wisdom

And was heartily intimate with me,

And took me in her arms in a cloak blue,

Then I dreamed of her - O Dear Lady!

I had studied Mariology,

Then Mary herself came to me in May,

As beautiful as Haura she was, more beautiful she was,

I wanted her, the most beautiful, free!

She came to veil me with her hair

And to kiss me with her mouth red!

We were one and united, as if we were

In God we sank in perpendicular plumb!

I drank in the wine, dined in the bread,

Which Jesus gave her, her senses -

I consecrated myself for life and death

Mary in spirit-wrought love!

And there in May the maiden enraptured me

In green gardens of bliss!

I was swallowed up by grief too great,

Sorrows grew too mighty for my heart,

Wine mingled with showers of tears,

I wanted to prepare my own death!

To Eden and to Eve's sweet silks

You took me away from my misery!

Will the dear Mother of God feed me,

O paradise, what then is death?

I worshipped the wreath of roses red,

Then I was all alone on earth,

Even without chalice of tears and bread of ashes,

Married alone with Jesus' chastisement - -

Alone, alone! - But, Mother, you were there,

Were, Mother of Sorrows, near to my pain!

Sistine Madonna in the night,

You stepped chastely back with your charm,

That I might see the dark power of heaven,

God the Father and the Messiah, arm in arm! -

"I am merciful to him whom I have mercy on,

And no one will rob you from my hand!

I carry your joy, your sorrow,

I carry your life in the land of life!"

I threw myself on my face in the sand

And wept with love and with gratitude,

That I found the father faithful in love

In my dream of eternity.

Sistine Madonna in the night,

May the dream of the Father's grace be yours.

As in renewed youth hot flames

I spent the midnight in desire

And was with my loneliness together,

In passion so ardent to consume me!

You walked on high heavenly seas

And looked on me with love and tenderness.

Thou knowest I will adore thee beyond measure,

So devote thy presence to me.

O red rose from the rose garden,

I prick a thorn in my breast,

The thorn of the crown of thorns, God of kind,

Who became flesh, walked in dust'd dust,

Son of Mary, deify my senses -

And die I also martyrdom of love!

Because early in the morning I consecrated myself to you

And because my whole heart belongs only to you,

Therefore, graceful maiden, thou lovest me,

And bless me with blessings beyond measure,

Who forsake thee, ah! Who honours thee today,

Him in thine arms thou hold'st at thy heart,

And thou art mine, who swear'st allegiance to thee,

But thou art my fortune in bitter harm,

I am so enchanted by thy charms,

Of love's fair mother, love's wife

I feel warm on your breast

On your bosom under your mantle blue.

All that I have I have, because you give,

I love, dear wife, because you love me!

I consecrate my beloved Haura to you,

The gentlest of the gentle turtledoves,

The beautiful woman with the Madonna aura,

The red rose in the green arbours,

I consecrate to you her mustard seed-like faith

And her silence and modesty,

No one can rob her of her baptismal seal,

The Trinity dwells in her. -

I consecrate to you her poverty, all her suffering,

I consecrate to you her beauty, her humility,

To the Son, her love, her body in a garment,

Consecrate to thee her delight and her melancholy.

As for me, I can only consecrate her to you.

I love her. May God himself free her!

Mary, dear lady, I am created

For the love and veneration of women of stature,

But I cannot take love to myself,

Only unrequited, loving beauty to behold;

But if one will trust herself to me completely,

Mary, look, I know her back;

I tremble at the brow of beauty,

Whether I am angry with the gaze of my beloved.

Maria, do not break my straw,

That is my only hope:

Be my dear wife, my love's happiness,

Only you know how to love me in the right way!

I love you with all my soul!

You love me too! Marry me again!

Mary, what is happiness? My paradise

Blossoms in my longing so garden-green,

O dew drops in the lamb's fleece,

Since all my blue flowers bloom!

My true paradise girl you,

Look glittering through your eyelashes silken!

Mary, what is the peace of my soul,

Seems to me I must suffer for my happiness!

Wisdom with the sharpness of her sword

Daily pierces my heart with pain,

That shall work me joy without end!

O woman, I gird up the loins of my mind

And consecrate to thee my flesh and my heart's blood.

O make me an ember of thy fervour!

Worship is what we poets call these

Feelings, as we sink to our knees

Before thee, O Lady of Paradises,

All hyperdulity is consecrated to thee!

I burn, dear Lady, I am at a loss for words,

To say how I long for thee!

The sea storms, O lead me into the port,

Through all the surf, O star of the sea!

Mary, my God's paradise,

Let me in through the gates of heaven!

Thou art grace, thou art so gentle and sweet!

Thou art mine, I am, beloved, thine!

O teach me to suffer and die,

In death I will woo your love!

"Shall I be thy paradise maiden?"

Mary, yes! be thou my paradise!

With thee will I walk in Eden's grove,

Enchantress, you are so gentle and sweet!

(I earth child, I think of Haura too,

She glows like red wine, is white like butter,

Unite our souls' eternal breath

And be our mother in the Garden of Eden.)

Mary, inexpressible feelings

Glow in me of boundless love!

O be my playmate of love games,

Of all God's paradise!

In the garden let us rest by Eden's rivers

And, my love, let us kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

When I lay in summer in a meadow

Juicy green grass in the colourful park,

Mary came from paradise

Who held me close to her dear heart.

She told me the message of peace

And looked at me with a wonder-loving gaze,

Then I felt in my heart even now

The wonderful, beautiful happiness of heaven!

The sun laughed in the top of the beech tree,

Mary smiled in the sun's dress,

When she said to me: Pray, pray, pray!

I consecrate all my love's sorrow to you, Madonne,

In my sorrow my soul's summit learns

In your womb the fruit of Eden!

Already I sometimes think, mistress, I am old,

I'm no longer fit for passion either,

Sighing, I creep through the hermit forest

And let myself be breathed on by spirit and wind.

But I have preserved a youth

That burns in me with passion's fire,

A fool I will be, what do I care for virtue?

When will I have a love adventure?

Oh no, oh no, youth is over,

No beautiful woman desires the eccentric,

Who only lives the lonely thought.

But you, my love, are my May,

The fruit of paradise is in thy womb,

Thy hair still in sweet love weaves me!

Marie, you gave your friend

The rose-red consolation, the grape drink.

Now I am tired, mother, of the wine,

Now I am tired of the sorrow for which I give thanks.

Give thanks, Mary, for the consolation of slumber,

Give me sleep, without dreams full of desire,

Into thy hands I lay my sorrow,

Then I will awake, embraced by thee.

But now let the consolation of the deep night

On my reddened eyelids thaw

And give me milk of the poppy and balm of the moon.

I consecrate the seed shed in dreams

Before my Eden girl's naked splendour

To you, woman of women deified by God!

Now you show me the shroud of Turin,

Virgin of Guadelupe, at thy side.

Through you I come to Him and find Him

With unutterable frieze in sorrow.

What do I call the dear man of sorrows?

Is friend and brother not warm enough for me?

Let His face shine in my heart,

For to love God, that is truly wise.

But now behold, I see Him looking

And let a ray from his eyes

And if I follow His gaze, I will find you!

Virgin of Guadelupe, I see thee nodding

So full of sweetness, not to be grasped,

Blessed art thou, I love thee dearly!

The most ardent of desires I will

Sacrifice to thee with its burning:

The hot wish, I would like Haura's adornment

In the womb after the manner of man!

I will offer it to thee and would become

A burnt offering on an altar of renunciation,

I offer you this dream of the earth

As of my love in heaven.

Not that I am free from desire and will,

But that the embers of the flesh to the flame of the heart

Through thy love in me is changed.

Then I want her, who has acted kindly on me,

In your heart, your gracious heart,

By the renunciation of God's lamb.

Make me love the name of all names,

The fruit of thy womb blessed,

In his name give me a dwelling,

To rest in eternal bliss's bay!

False doctrine made this name cold,

As men have spoken it with understanding,

How shall it be my home and abode

In Paradise and the Garden of Eden?

As the love-singer of Our Lady

To me shall be sweet divine balms,

That flow from the true name of God.

O Jesus! baptise with love's dew

Anew to me the name of all names,

Bridegroom of the lady of ladies!

How is it that I am so happy?

You shine so brightly in me, you golden sun,

My mind is all light love

And all my heart is full of love's delight!

O look at my heart, O love!

Beloved souls you will find within,

The wife, the child, and also the pious man,

I will love in thee, heart of my heart.

O smiling Madonna full of grace,

Take this in thy heart mystic rose,

Which are to me like sacraments of God.

Who I bathe in the light of your love,

I consecrate myself to thy heart, to thy bosom,

A child of God, richly blessed with happiness!

Why do I complain that no one is with me

And no one here shares my joy?

Rejoice in my joy Jesus Christ,

In my dwelling the Madonna dwells!

And when I lie in the tub of warm waves,

She listens to all my longings.

She makes the room a holy chapel

And blesses those who stay here now and then.

I see you smile, I see you cry with me,

I hear the soft breath of your voice,

Yes, I am thine, and thou art mine, O bride!

And though it be night, soon the sky will shine,

For my soul beholds my Saviour

And my heart's spouse too!

I have tried partnership

And tried hermitism,

But all that remains is unrequited passion

And longing song and vain fame.

Now you are the distant flower blue to me,

At the same time like a wife.

Your motherly mantle is blue

And thy sweetheart's veil is like dew.

Sick is my soul, I need the stimulus

Of love's torment to be joyful.

In your heart I accept the cross,

A stake in my breast and a wreath of thorns around my heart!

Be my pain to the beloved joyborn,

Make all my pain a delight in God!

With my mother's mother I learned,

What a child's home and security

The green garden was so motherly,

The world like my grandmother's apron wide.

As a young man I was a poor orphan,

Cold and without home was the universe,

And sadly I called for my mother softly,

Was only forlornness the echoing reverberation.

In a place of pilgrimage in a foreign land

I found a lonely chapel,

There I spoke to Mary before the candles.

Then all the forlornness came to me

In you, holy security,

Mary, my mother's home in my heart.

Jesus, I would so love to be in paradise,

I wanted to go there and play with Maria,

You smiled from heaven sweet and sweet,

But I must feel woe in the valley of tears!

Then the dear woman gave me her breast

(The breast that resembled Haura's pretty breasts)

And suckled my longing for the pleasure

Of paradise. God, I love you!

Jerusalem, I may rest on your bosom

And rest close to your warm heart,

veiled in the beauty of your brown hair!

I give you my heart's red rose

And will always do thee much love.

I love, therefore I sing, woman wonderful!

I am a poor little man of sorrows,

Mother of sorrows, O Mary, you,

How would a curse come upon me with its spell,

Where you give me my rest in suffering!

Sea of mercy, you blue sea,

Bring me in your mantle to your heart!

Come, comforter of sorrows, to me here

And heal my heart with its aching pains!

In starry letters your name is written, woman,

Written in the sky of my soul.

Thy veil dry my tears' dew,

Be gracious, Mother, to all my woe

And lead me from this woe

Into God's eternal bliss!

I consecrate my sorrows to you, Mary,

I consecrate to you, Mary, all my sorrows,

I consecrate to your Immaculate Heart

My Golgotha and my Gethsemane!

Beloved Queen, I choose you

In the presence of the saints as my

Beloved wife, so dear and motherly,

Sister, dove, my one and only!

From your breasts I will suck comforting milk,

In your blue mantle I will rest.

Look at me with loving eyes

And realise that I can do works of love.

Beloved, with all my woes

I flee to your dear heart's refuge!

Mary, make my poor heart nothing,

Who in vain seeks the fumes,

Burn in me, through the glow of the divine fire.

World, flesh and sensuality in me to ashes.

Your heart shall then live in my heart,

I want to glow with heavenly desire,

Live in love, love all pain,

May God's love consume me utterly!

Be you the only one I desire,

With Jesus you are my only delight

You guide to God's paradise

You beautiful queen of crystal seas,

Thou dear wife in the garment of the sun,

Spouse, your love is so sweet!

November mist in the darkness

Gives tidings of shadowy death.

I, at the mercy of my loneliness,

Surrendered, I suffer the distress of my soul.

So the saints and spirits teach me,

I shall patiently bear thorn and rose,

The mystic scholars and the masters,

They teach self-denial and renunciation.

I have friends in the hereafter,

I am a member of a heavenly congregation,

Baptised on earth with the dew of tears

In the valley of tears, banished child of the Evas.

Mary comes, her sign is the wind,

Home my dear wife brings me.

Theresa, lead me through the inner rooms,

John, teach me to sing of love,

Therese, lead me to Jesus my dreams,

And Edith, let me reach the cross.

On All Saints' Day, O Queen,

You appear to me as Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

I give myself in your heart,

Give God my heart as a little jam.

I am so poor in virtues and weak,

Obedience, poverty, chastity, strict discipline

Are as far from me as holiness is from a sinner, alas!

But I long for the fruit of thy womb

And for the grace of divine election

In the mystery of loving marriage!

Mary sings: God, look upon my humility,

I have become nothing, I am very small,

With my sighs and with my melancholy

I lose myself in your Son's pain.

Thou superluminous light, will I behold thee,

Then I must go into the deep darkness.

I carry within me seas of trust

And must I also suffer the pangs of motherhood,

To bring your souls all to you,

Those who are your children are my little ones.

A sword in my heart, I will sing jubilation

And unite with thy divinity!

Drink the sweet milk from my breasts,

Will sink into God on the Last Day!

O spotless mother heart of Mary,

I myself already feel like you, O Mother,

Pity me, too, when the children cried,

Gave apple juice and spread butter on the bread.

Yes, even the children's mothers

To my children, I become their father,

I'll take pity on you, I'm your son,

I will be a helper, a comforter, a counsellor.

O, may I not baptise the unbaptised?

Are not all the children of God heirs?

My suffering shall redeem them all from death,

Give them paradise, let me die,

Mary, yes, I will lie down on the cross,

If by my death I could save souls!

You most tender of young mothers,

Of dream and existence I have a wound,

The heart is heavy, the soul feels bitter,

O kiss me with the kiss of thy mouth!

O heal me, I am a little child,

Fall low, but fall into your womb,

You carry me as on wings from the wind

And blessedly release my soul,

You embrace me mercifully with your arms,

I nestle against your soft cheek,

You know how to charm me with grace!

I look at you, O beauty, look long,

For Haura's beauty is inscribed

In thy beauty, love-majesty!

Has Joseph also often dreamed while carpentering

And pondered Christmas miracles?

But thou didst not hem in everyday life,

Living Madonna of Madonnas,

Went out to buy leaven,

And went to pay the taxes?

You often had to pull yourself together,

But world and everyday life did not steal your spirit!

You were always united with God,

And even when the daily grind was hard on you..,

All sacrifice and prayer became yours.

Today, when my darling begs me in faith,

I offer up meditative contemplation

And offer my spirit for the sacrificial slaughter!

I need my poetic leisure

And need prayer and silence as a hermit,

To kiss thee with a pious greeting,

So I say: God's will be done!

I also long for tenderness,

To be one in marriage with Haura...

I must renounce, bear this suffering,

Must say: God's will be done!

Two souls I have, alas, in my breast,

The one longs for the much-loved,

The other wants only to be a hermit.

O give me all pain and all pleasure,

Beloved comforter of the deeply afflicted,

If I be not Hauras, I am thine!

Had I stayed in my mother's womb

And had been safe in the dark nothingness!

I found no one on earth to love me,

And must be a sad loving poem!

But my cold mother cast me out

And put me in a basket of rushes.

I grew up in a rich house

And saw there only the poor hearts grinning.

I fall low, I fall low!

The lovely princess's blue wonder

When I sought her hand, let me go,

I fall deep, I'm not held by a woman's arms.

I'm not held by a woman's arms, I fall unsteadily into mercy

And sink into Mary's womb.

Hear, Mother of Mercy, my sorrow,

Hear softly all my tears pray,

To thee rosaries count tears,

I must evermore so ardently long

Longing for a heart's resting place,

A light shall burn in my heart,

I want to sleep in the arms of the much-loved one

And know her angelic soul deep.

I cry, always, alas, I must do without,

In vain my desire always burns,

My beloved will always resist me,

See me drown in sadness!

When death comes to destroy existence,

O my dear wife in eternity!?

In my Mother of God bower

My angel takes me in her arms.

I knew a grace in childhood,

Grandmother, the good warm-hearted.

The much loved one says: I love you,

We love you too, me and my son.

The sister comforts my tears dully,

A child is enthroned in my bosom.

In my bower of Our Lady

I am all alone with the Madonna,

To whom I cry my weeping prayers,

Who often came near my poor soul

And took the chosen one full of harm

In her loving arms of love!

You are so beautiful, are you also so cold,

As my beloved so proud?

Is your dear holy form

Untouchable too? Say, by the wood of the cross!

"What thinkest thou of me? I am near thee,

As no woman ever was near thee!

I live in your heart, yes,

I alone know how to read your mind!"

In my tears you swim, star of the seas,

In my soul's unhappy glow

Thou art the god-flaming pillar of flame,

You are my breath when I sigh and howl,

Thou art the rose red that I desire,

You are my flesh and blood!

I learned to know the deep woe of the earth,

Was Don Quixote on adventures of love,

I believe that I shall die blessed,

Life has been a purgatory to me,

I have worshipped and wept,

I have burned in love's fire,

I was a burden to myself, my own enemy,

Was nothing but longing for the homeland;

Maria I know is waiting for me over there!

She will with leaves from the tree of life

Balmy heal all my wounds.

The suffering of love was not in vain,

What becomes inaccessible to the evil dogs,

Is granted to me: the garden of paradise!

Oh Mother of God, oh I am so small,

In blue mourning I wilt and grow weary,

I am so lonely, ah, and so alone,

The sweetest is not for me so south,

In vain all the embers of my soul glow,

I will not enter into rest,

Only blue drops drip from my eyelid,

Are drops of my silent love's torment.

I would wrap myself in blue darkness,

In your cloak, and forget the world,

That outside is so busy and so cold.

You come fill my empty heart with love,

You let me drink love, eat love,

Only love seeks the sad shape.

I shall carry the crosses of my friends

And selflessly give them my love.

I shall be a sacrifice on their days

And think of them mercifully in prayer.

I am but a child, so small and weak,

I am but a child, so weak and small,

I can only fall, ever lower, ah,

To be hidden deep in Mary's womb.

Of God's wisdom and of God's strength

Share with me Mary's love and pain!

I must renounce passion,

From flesh to flesh the covenant, From heart to heart.

The longing for sensuality, the appeal

Of love, is vain, is my cross.

The seers sang to you: You are so beautiful!

May you be kissed? Yes, one may!

O hear my longing sound,

That I have given thee my love's longing!

I saw your scarlet mouth

And saw the glances flash through the lashes,

The rosary on thy arm, naked and round,

And I could kiss your fingertips!

Let my nose touch your nose

And kiss me Hebrew on the forehead,

Embrace me in the cloud's golden glow!

May you lead me to the wedding dance,

Heavenly bride, may you guide my soul..,

That with holy spirit it may dance the dance!

I have reached the beach of eternal bliss,

There, in a white wedding veil

Only the loveliest Madonna

In paradise, leads me to the celebration

The Mystical Marriage with the Lamb

In Zion's city and Eden's garden,

Then shall I the soul's bridegroom

Know as I now know of him.

Ludwig-Maria and Therese will be

And German poet and German poetess

And my angel will greet me there!

May my favourite child be on the new earths,

Sister show me the starry lights,

And Haura I will kiss in Jerusalem!

O sweet Virgin of the Communion,

Mother of the Church, open wide your heart,

Your much-loved Son

Come to me as Saviour in the pain of my soul!

I pray Hail, Virgin without blemish,

Who alone longs for Jesus' blessing,

You temple of Solomon, you tabernacle,

You give me God in his flesh!

Like you, I will cherish him in my heart,

Will, Queen of Hearts, place the Host

In your most gentle hands of love!

I place all those entrusted to me,

Into Jesus' heart and yours, dear bride,

With God send me to my loved ones!

I, with poverty, poor in heart,

I, with soul full of hot longing,

I, with the loneliness and all the pains,

I, with the dark night and all the tears,

I, with a heart full of praise and thanksgiving,

I, with the inborn pious impulse,

I, with the prayer of praise and hymn of praise,

I, with much hope, faith, deep love,

I give myself to you, Mary, your heart!

There you draw near to me, to tenderly heart me,

To caress me face to face,

To kiss me with your lip roses

On forehead and nose and poet's mouth.

We love each other, O woman, from the bottom of our hearts!

How beautiful is Haura, how sweetly beguiling,

A graceful maiden in youth,

In God's beauty, yet not hearing me,

I will give her my love's virtue.

What is written so black in my life's book

By my fate's hand so clearly written:

On my life it weighs like a curse,

Those I love may not love me!

And yet must always write of love

And at the same time do without love

And everything hurts and hurts so much!

What sayest thou, O rose without thorns?

I hear you spur on to deeper sorrow:

"The others pray more and suffer more!"

Am I then, O Mary, Don Juan

And ever in search of woman,

Am I so consecrated to woman as man,

That in women I see God's beauty?

Can I ever find rest in a woman?

Or must I always weep without rest?

Will I ever join myself to a woman,

Will I ever unite with a woman?

Does the thorn of restless impulse strike me

In my heart, when fate takes hold of me

And I dread the curse of my life,

Then I'll flee, dear wife, to your love

And seek rest in thy fair love,

There my divinity becomes my bride!

O Haura, will you be my wife?

All my life I will love you, honour you!

Be thou my heavenly kingdom on this earth

And I will increase your love of God!

O come with me to Medjugorje, there

To make the covenant before the Queen!

Psalm forty-five be the word of blessing,

I give myself to you like Jesus Christ!

Mary, O Mary, mountains must

I must swallow, bitter mountains of renunciation,

If God's will is not marriage

With Haura, will not the bridal kiss be mine,

Instead, I shall have the rod of judgment,

Appear to me thou in loving nearness!

When we opened our hearts to each other

And our hearts were like monstrances,

All the pains of love were gone,

I was allowed to dance in the kingdom of heaven!

Then my soul could no longer bear

Of love's bottomless loneliness,

Woe is me, I was nailed to the cross

And emptied cups full of bitter sorrow!

O night of the soul! All my tears

Transform God by a mystic grace

Into everlasting prayer for you,

You, who are all my soul's longing,

Who in silk with a body of jade

As bride on Jesus' hand in heaven stands....

Crown of creation, daughter of my Lord,

You cannot comfort when the Lord strikes me,

You cannot comfort when the Father lays

On me the bitterness from the Wormwood Star!

With God's angel I have wrestled

Nor do I know whether I have won,

I have sung David's lament psalm

And walked in the dark valley by the shepherd's staff.

Where were you then? Shall I then without thee

Shall I bear that my heart is broken?

Did you intercede for me in heaven?

That my pain, my sorrow, is so bitter,

By your father's gracious gesture

Becomes for me even more of love?

I look at the shadow of the smoke,

As it moves on the table, and think:

Is all breath, is all breath, only breath!

In fleeting transience I sink

I sink my spirit in dreamy slumber.

Life does not last like ore stone,

But always I cherish a thousand years' grief:

I love very much and am so very alone!

And must I through the dark valley of suffering,

I think it is a mercy that I suffer,

My sorrow is the sorrow of Jesus' love!

And you will feed your blue dreamer,

Who feels in pain of his mortality,

That thou art the mother for ever and ever!

Ah, always I must sleep so alone,

Never rests the lovely one by my side,

Sleep always on the sea and never in the harbour,

Alone in longing dreams I drift,

Never do I cover myself with a woman's brown hair,

Never do I fall asleep in loving arms,

Never will I rest among sweet apples

And never by a heart, a warm one.

O dear woman in your miraculous image,

Look lovingly on my dream of love

And kiss me with your mouth, Pieta,

And wrap me in the wedding veil mild,

As light as a breath and as white as a swan's foam,

And be near me with thy tenderness.

O motherly friend, come and heal

My sore heart with thy dear warmth,

I am torn in ten thousand pieces,

In every part I weep my tears,

Torn am I, stretched wide

Stretched from pole to pole and so torn,

And all that wraps me up is suffering,

With a thousand sorrows I am all covered!

You unbreakable reconciler

Of the inwardly torn, balm

Of the Holy Spirit on my heart!

O love me, O love me! I am

Sorrowful to the point of death! Is pain my name,

Are Jesus' wounds my paradise?

O woman, may I desire nothing for myself,

Nor Haura as my wife?

Will God deny me all pleasure,

That I may attain to the sight of God?

Only one wish have I for this earth,

One wish only, to free the glorious one,

But shall I not wish, Mary, shall

I consecrate my only earthly wish to thee!

Take all my incredible longing

For Haura, nuptial union

With thy representative, to thee!

Calm the black embers in my veins

And lift me up again from Job's dung

And be my all - for a nothing am I!

Mary speaks: I had to leave my dearest,

I had to sacrifice my dearest completely,

I, too, could no longer grasp the pain,

There was only night and no sweet radiance,

The sacrifice went right through my heart

For I had to renounce my beloved,

I was in the pain of Jesus Christ's pain

And my lamentations were labour pains

And motherly love was born

And I wanted to love my little children

And wanted my pain to be a blessing to my loved ones.

In the valley of tears on lonely paths

I saw the dear little flower shoots,

And sunshine smiled in my heart.

Messiah speaks: I am the good shepherd

And went to the oak ground and to the blood beeches

With a wedding wreath of green myrtle,

To find me a wedding shepherdess.

The shepherdess gave me not her soul

And never told me: I love you!

No oils burned in her lamp,

Then I came to her in the deep dark.

Indifferently she turned away from me,

Who all my God-born love yearned for,

For whom I even with blood-sweat tears

And crown of thorns on my heart,

For her sake I died on the wood

And still love her from beyond the grave!

Lady of wisdom, let wisdom's fair one

In her love's sorrows behold me,

That I, wreathed in thorns, may crown with myrtle

And your brown hair, O woman of women.

How melancholy looks and full of melancholy

The beautiful wisdom in the olive garden.

Mugwort, hemlock and wormwood grow for her,

There I see her waiting for the blossoming of the roses.

Let a house be prepared for the beautiful wisdom

In the human heart, but I hear her lament:

I have nothing to lay my head where!

How sorry I am that wisdom suffers,

I hear women weeping by the wayside,

Who bear their children by the breasts...

Patiently I see wisdom suffer

And quietly shut up her lamentations,

The beautiful wisdom wants to feed the disciples,

But they are not ready to bear her woe.

In her pain I see her have mercy

Like a mother over Sion's children,

She wants to embrace them all with her arms!

(Alas for you, you must flee in the winter!...)

I see her collapse from weakness,

The bear growls and the dove coos without rest,

There she lies with her mouth in the dust

And suffers all with the most beautiful silence,

Till the angels graciously bend down to her

And speak to her comfortingly of the God of love.

O angels, praise to me the pains of love

Of beautiful wisdom in the forest of suffering,

How she longs for a loving heart,

But the human heart, like the devil, remains cold.

How was the beautiful wisdom despised,

Yet I hear her speak with such humility:

O man, compassionate, in pain,

I will bring thee into the garden of Eden!

I will have mercy like a mother

And leave thee not an orphan in the world.

And have accomplished your bliss!

The beautiful wisdom died. The day was night,

Before the Blessed Sacrament the veil falls,

Mary embraces the corpse in her arms.

100

I see your heart, O beautiful Wisdom, open,

I see your open heart bleed with love!

I give you my infinite hope

And my heart's bright love-glow!

Pain I will be of thy sorrows alone,

I will suffer for thee all thy woes,

Unite my heart with your heart

And prepare for thee thy kingdom in my heart!

I will love you until the hour of death

And in the hour of death take the sore creature

Creature into thy nuptial womb!

I will consecrate to thee sorrow and all joys,

I will set you free for all eternity,

In paradise my soul is bare before thee!

THIRD SECTION

Mother of truth, long have I wandered

And did not follow the law in the dark

And listened to no wise priest,

Cried Jesus from the Gospel,

Then the Lord gave me martyrdom

Of love, sent me the serpent beasts

And Pharisees mocking and Philistines

And showed me from afar the mystery of the flesh

Of the flesh that attracted wisdom,

Which, Mary, she took from thy bosom.

And thou didst appear, and didst repel all ridicule,

The truth's mother, thou art unstated

The mystical spouse, spotless,

And because of thee, with me is God, my God!

I am so much afflicted and sorely chastened

And hard lies God's hand upon me and rod!

Already all my faith has almost evaporated

And I feel surrounded by hatred.

What shall I comfort myself with now? Where is mercy,

But where is the support for the unstoppable?

Far from me are word and flesh and ark of the covenant

And when I think of the priests, I remain cold.

Oh, if I had a mother who would embrace me,

And could I flee under her skirt!

O Mother of God, see, existence is painful

And my father's stick hurts me terribly!

O Mother of God, merciful Mother,

I melt like butter in the sun!

O royal Mother of Grace, high

And sunlit Lady, sign of hope,

Alas, I stand in the hot blaze of woe,

So let not thy grace depart from me!

Mother of sorrows, teach me to suffer

And unite me to the Crucified.

I die daily! May you feed me,

Let Pieta, in thy bosom weep me!

For if I die the death with the Lord,

God will transfigure me by the Holy Ghost!

To bitter cup of yes and cross sorrow,

The suffering of Christ will consume me whole!

When the sharp edge of the sword pierces me,

My heart is united to your heart!

Forbid this love to slacken,

Forbid this love to grow

To deepen! In Mary's name

I will turn around the axes of faith.

And give me love for the Ecclesia,

Is her face disfigured by wrinkles?

In her temple wisdom is near,

As stars are brighter the smallest sparkles.

But above all, to the Communion

Give me infinite desire, hunger!

That I turn not away from the Son,

Not rather loiter with the loose folk.

I am afraid of these last days,

You must carry me to the heart of the Godhead!

O Mother of God, O mystic grave,

When God revealed Himself as Love,

Then the wood of the holy cross was hard,

The suffering of the soul that Jesus gave me,

That was an inward dying, and I have

I rested in the valley of the shadow of death.

To the hope of paradise

And turned away from this world time.

Then the Holy Spirit came to wake me up,

After Christ with the marks of wounds

To the anointing God led me God's child.

Now cover us, O woman, with the blankets of grace,

Now we awake at night to Hail

And kiss each other like breath and wind!

2 OUR LOVE WIFE OF LOVE

Beloved, in the night of the rose's glow

Befell me, nameless desire!

I alone know how to adore beauty

And my blood burns like a lava flow!

In the morning the glow became a flood of tears!

Alas, must this torment of soul consume me,

Let it at least teach me wisdom

To have high courage in all adversity!

Beauty is the dream of my senses

And mighty over me through her constant

Denial of my boundless love!

Mary, listen to me when I speak before you,

You are the mistress of my heart

And kiss me when I pray, pray, pray!

Yes, Virgin, grant me this petition,

That I may sing thy praises above all others

And more than other poets multiply

Thy praise and bring thee the splendour of song!

You stir me with your swan's wing,

Queen of love and idea

Of beauty, that I may advance to wisdom,

Wisdom's light in thy beauty see!

Let other poets also in delight and woe

Consecrate to thee their rhymes' rhythmic dance;

With beauty radiant, go before the singers,

That we may vie for the laurel wreath!

Touch our poetry to thy bosom,

Thou god-declared queen of the muses!

O Queen of the Muses, in the night

I think, drunk with a few drops of wine,

How sweetly Suleika's singer Hatem laughs

And to him his song's sparks kindled!

Infatuation full of pain and mockery

And full of the lenz is a sweet song!

Oh, make a fool of me of God's love

On thy dove's breasts, Sulamith!

Of Eden's trees of life remained stumps

And Eve became as frosty as sin.

Madonna! nymph of the flame of love,

With kiss of the Muses to my golden mouth flow,

Ah, kiss me at midnight alone,

Thy mouth more intoxicating than red wine!

I love the familiar solitude,

To talk with wisdom and with thee

In contemplation and in prayer,

Mary, blossoming concealment!

The beautiful woman in her maternity dress is beautiful

And gardens of March seem Garden of Eden

And many pretty women in the cities,

All of whom I avoid as poor in love.

Once I was devoted to women

And reverenced their beauty

And sought love from women's souls.

Now, dear woman, you are my whole life,

Wisdom kisses me in the food of the road -

And yet I will miss Suleika's beauty...

O woman of women, in the fair women

Thou wast worthy, truly wonderful.

To look at your brown hair in all

It was beautiful to look at your brown hair,

To give thee even a kiss on the hand

And to choose names for a child,

Who was a divine apparition,

Was beautiful in the evening dew and spring wind.

The women are all your mirrors,

So thou wast present at the feast.

Wisdom is so chivalrous and gentle

And now I will sleep in thy veil.

Mary's mirrors were fair ladies,

I go to rest in wisdom's name.

Mary, chaste womb of the dawn,

In thee will I awake and behold,

To thee my nuptial day's jubilant flute,

My bride's tent, thou my sweet lodging.

"My son, I know the pining of thy youth,

How thou hast wandered alone in the wilderness,

How the princesses of Egypt laughed

And mockingly shook thy fair breasts."

Thy fire shines on the shores of joy,

Beloved, let me be buried in the night,

O night, my wife, with divine desire

Shall in thy bosom the divinity feast me!

I suck wine from thy breasts, love,

That I may remain drunk at thy bosom!

My heavenly wife, spring has come,

Be thou my love, divine Madonna!

For peace all thy pious pray,

I love thee for peace, my delight!

Caress me in the silk dress of the sun

And smile on me in every blossom,

Dip thy singer in the bronze of life

And awaken the jubilation in my mind!

A girl like the moon's white mythe

Shall look at me from wide eyes,

A woman whose soft cheek glows,

Make me a man drunk with love!

From young rosebuds a wreath

I'll put on thee, O Sulamith in the dance!

I consecrate to thee the spring, will in the lenze,

When love's desire awakes, I will love thee!

The young sparrows dance their dances

And flowers blossom from their shoots.

In winter I liked to stay alone,

I want to be alone in spring, too,

I wrote you a love song in winter

I'll sing my love to you in spring.

Queen of the earth, O Madonna,

From your womb came to us the lumen,

That we celebrate at the beginning of March.

To the youthful, radiantly beautiful sun

Look at the small, dear, colourful flowers,

So I, Mary, open my heart to you!

A song was lost to me in the world,

That I will find again in the night.

In your bosom I was born again,

You made my life a dream

When I was far from you, when I was in the associations

Of rebellion and false piety.

But I will unite with devotion,

I am always consecrated to solitude.

Madonna of my refuge from death,

How is thy dress, Marie, so rosy?

I say Titian painted you.

There is beauty, but without love,

Beauty is dull and weary and dim,

But your beauty shines from love!

Mary, oh Mary, you are so,

So fruity and so sweet and so red,

Thou art the fairest image of Zevaoth

And sweeter than the bride of Solomon,

You unique one, you make me glad,

Apple of God, fruit of my Lord,

Thy dew of love's grace refreshes me where

I always am, thou sun, moon and star.

The universe is an apple core

And you the apple on the Christ tree,

Queen of galaxies and far away,

And near and dear, dream within my dream,

You, my dream's dream girl, at the bay

Of delight I give thee the fruit of beauty!

When I am swallowed up by sadness,

Throw me, like Leucothea, the veil,

When my heart lies low in heavy sorrow,

Show me the land of hope, the celebration of joy.

And when I glow for beauty's image,

Then show thyself before my soul's eyes,

And when I languish with desire wild,

Let me suck at thy bosom.

When fear of the world and everyday life enters me,

When the day makes my life dull,

Be my guardian angel with a golden sword

And balsam and the wine of the night.

When my soul's night invokes the sun,

Then shine, shine and shine, Madonna!

Mary, tread on the serpent's neck

And turn all bitterness into sweetness!

The glaciers with the ice-crystal spikes

Are not as pure as you in paradise!

O create a mosaic in my heart,

O woman in my heart's wedding hall,

That through thee in joys and in sorrows

Offer myself to God as an original.

You know that I know nothing but the love of women,

I have gazed upon thy beauty,

Who, in the spirit of God's love,

Like wisdom, the bride of Solomon.

O Queen, let me die to myself

And inherit thee and God's paradise!

"It is I, put away the books, listen to me,

Open the eyes of thy soul, look!"

Breast-tipped flames and jewelled ornaments

And gold adorns thee, thou most beautiful woman!

In thy riches, queen, shine!

O pink pearl in the white navel!

I behold thee and already in Eden lenze,

Thou more fair than Eve with Abel!

I am blinded and cover my eyes,

Divine queen of the seraphim!

In paradise I will be a singer

As a lover intimate with the beloved!

O rose of all roses, ember of embers!

O epitome of the beautiful, the true, the good!

At your lips I have drunk embers

And sucked wine of fire from thy breast,

Like white embers are thy breasts' billows

And your eyes full of charm and sparks!

Into thy bosom I am, sunk into the sea,

My thighs, jewelled clasps, arched,

United, we never deceived each other,

In your wine I'll dip my pen!

The god-embroidered flame of love had

Alive through me glowed, the spirit, thy spouse,

And sang within me with hot tongues of flame!

I sing the queen by the king's throne,

From the purgatory like a phoenix

I have swung to her heart of fire!

Give me worthy sonnets, for great

You are great, O queen of queens!

The divinity of God is intimately within thee,

The New Creation comes from thy bosom!

In thee both star and moss are comprehended,

Aeons all and sages that ponder,

And nightingales that begin to sing

And sun and scarlet rose!

O Lady! Goddess of grace kind,

Thou art holier than holy! I despondent

Am dust, and thou dost behold God in eternal vision!

Thou, O Mary, art so tender of love,

Thou art flesh of my flesh, fair maid,

In the innermost familiar woman...

If you will sing to me, I will kiss you,

You call me queen of the muses,

You know that I am burning with love,

I love you, you shall always know!

In my lap lies your pillow in the night,

I'll lead you through the realms of dreams

To the love of God, who is called: I am!

I teach you in divine pleasures.

You gave all of yourself to me, so you are mine,

I will keep thee all thy life,

And though thy heart be sore with love,

I'll cover thee with the light of my eyes

And nestle you in my brown hair

And kiss you with my date's mouth!

I greet you! I am the Mystic Rose

And you my love-singer, nightingale!

"How shall I sing thee, all flawless,

Is insufficient my rhymes sound!"

Friend, by the Spirit's fiery tongue's fall

The praise song is given thee by God,

Be proud of thy gift! Full of gush

Sing my love and your love life!

I rejoice in your proud striving

And will grace your song as a muse.

I will lift your spirit to divinity

And lead you to God as your mother.

I salute you, my singer! Yes, you know,

Together we live the spirit of love!

Your life is like a spring blossom

And will fade away and is like dust,

But pray so with loving mind,

That like a monument thy faith may stand.

My dear, are you afraid? I am the dove

Of peace, will give thee peace.

I will lead thee into the Eden bower

And be thy shelter and shield all thy life.

Offer yourself like ears of corn and like vines

As often as you can, then wisdom will be nourished

As the flesh of Jesus is woven into your flesh

And so, O little one, you will become wise!

But fear nothing, for great is the grace of God,

At my heart bathe thee in love!

I am ashamed of so much love's ardour!

Of brown wood is the acacia chest,

In its bosom dwells God's wide grace

And flows through me to you like a flood.

The nightingale sings praises full of splendour

And myriads of red roses glow

And groves of white almond trees blossom,

I am the dream of the summer night.

O nightingale, the queen of roses

Lets her breast sway in a lily dress

And will as a flower blue of eternity

To caress you as the garden's Eden flora.

Sing to me with your love song,

I give you this beautiful wisdom in thanks!

I have already taken off my pure petticoat

And have already bathed my feet.

Beloved, hurry like a gazelle's goat,

The evening shadows have graced us.

Come, dearest, let us sleep under henna,

I have saved you my apples.

In lilies we graze like young sheep

And rise from the glut beautifully mated.

I give thee of my breasts ripe grapes,

You pluck a fig from the palm tree.

Come, let us coo like turtledoves,

The moon alone watches, the faithful witness.

My husband, flee with me to the myrrh hill!

- "I follow thee, O Schullammyth Mariie!"

It was on a mild spring night,

I dreamed on the balcony alone,

There was no moon with white splendour,

Only far, very far, the beautiful stars' glow.

In my sadness I drank the wine

And breathed the breeze soft and gentle.

The night was a balm for painful weeping

And anointing oil of infinite taste.

Before me the chair was free. There you came

Like a dark invisible light,

That found through the night to my darkness.

You gave my soul peace again

With your smiling face,

And gratefully I kissed your hand.

How sad I become of my dreams,

That send me to my loneliness!

Like traces of weather in the old trees,

So old my face makes my sorrow.

I look at people's happiness with envy,

As they bathe in the foam of lust.

From the cross I call to eternity,

Whether the comforter with veil'd hem

Will dry my tears, mother and madonna.

Then the spirit calls me into the May sun,

Madonna sits by me on a stool,

The red rosary on her lap:

O nightingale, I am your rose!

The white veil blows lightly and loosely.

This is the reason for my sadness:

In vain was I once a carpenter

And never shall I be the husband

Of the woman to whom my love was consecrated.

Another makes himself very comfortable

In his idle hate that won her.

I knelt at her feet, but then

I went back to my lonely sorrow.

Never will I be loved by women

I love (who love me, love I not)

And so I remain wounded, aching, like

A child who never loved her mother.

Yet I see Mary's eyes light

And every glance gives me God's love.

Well then, if melancholy, just melancholy then

Be in my mind, if God wills it!

I bear my cross and endure and weep in silence,

Wife Melancholia, I am her husband.

Wives, listen to my lamentations!

But deaf you stand by mint and by dill.

Come, then, tear, out of mine eye,

Surely no eye like mine can ever weep.

I am the singer of royal gloom

And my sonnet-work is of grief splendid.

Embrace, love wounds! Woe is delight!

Ah! which mistress's curls are longer

And what woman's curls are so jet black at night

As my pitying Madonna's!

In my youth I was happy, drunk

I sang ancient odes without rhyme

Of France's vineyards, milk, and brine,

To dip the swan's feather in blood

Was not enough, I dipped it in sparks

And in the soul's divine fire-germ!

And women, women were at home at night,

Were sunk dying in bliss!...

And then God came into my life - the night,

Abandonment and loneliness and suffering

And boundless thirst for death!

O death, how your eye flashes and laughs at me,

O Death, how you wrap yourself in white silks,

Marie, how death's mouth is so red!

O dear woman, comforter of souls,

Let only me see your beauty,

You beauty, most beautiful of all women,

Compassionate, queen of gloom,

My ideal, my dearest one,

My happiness and hope in all horror,

I trust you with infinite confidence

All my sorrow, I give to thee

My weeping, my loneliness, my languishing,

All my longing, my desire and yearning,

My sighing and my groaning and my panting,

Mary, let me sleep with thee

And sleep the sleep of death in thy strands

And wake in the morning to your smile.......

How we came into this green garden,

We thought of bliss gone by,

As lust poured from the woman's bronze,

The dear woman whose name was Life.

You stayed, but the ladies are gone,

Hætaera afar, and mother afar, and nun,

And muse thou art alone, Madonne,

In the garden the flower-seed celebrates thee.

So sultry nights the palmeros celebrate,

There you wake, Our Lady of the Snows,

Where nymphs play with parrots.

In this garden of creative Eros

I stand before the woman in sunsilk

With ardent thoughts and feelings.

When in dreams my mother approaches me

And carries her care to my bed

And lays herself crushingly on my bed

And my soul has no help

And when the windows rattle in the bathroom

And the night stirs in the curtains

And a dead woman flaps her wings

And lays in me the seed of death's bane,

Then I pray to thee in my bed

And sing glorifying sonnets to thee

And you come near me for my protection, woman,

Who is more than mother and more than nurse

And more than woman herself, the flame of my life,

Whom I trust in dream and night and dying.

To be a child with a joyful child

Is like a spring from the bronze of life

And water play of the joy of life

And like a free gift of joy,

Like blackbirds flying merrily in the wind

And clouds play merrily with the sun,

With thy silken veil, O Madonna,

When from the clouds you smile sweet and gentle.

In thy youthful motherhood

You rejoice in our children's joy

And smile on our feelings

Of happiness when we in our young strength

We attain bliss like a prey

And play games with the child Jesus.

I sighed in the night, alas!

There is no grace with sweet splendour,

No sorrow is there of poetic romance,

Only loneliness with quiet discomfort.

What poet speaks of love?

When none before him sweetly turns in dance...

And none pierces him with the lance of an eyelash

And nowhere a bridal chamber glows?

What a song the love-singer sings,

If he lives a hermit's life,

Who day after day dreads the same?

He prays! He prays the rosary,

He sees the splendour of the most beautiful eyes,

With laurel crowns the singer his bride.

If, poet, your wives forgot you,

Around whom your memory always revolves,

If then with thee only the spirit remained

And your bangling in the busy streets,

When empty the benches where women sat

And no more women to feed your cup

And no more love to show thee the way

And hard the bread from which women ate,

Then, O poet, surrender to loneliness

And go for a walk in the arbour,

Perhaps a turtledove in love will do,

For when thou hast yielded thyself wholly to silence

And from thee shed shell upon shell,

The maiden will know thee in the heaven of thy heart.

And if one also gives me erudition

As a lesson and sum of her sorrow

And one makes the mother's soul wide

And is the consolation of love's avarice

And a sky is in blue dress

And almost divine in graceful charm

And one is ready to play the poet

And helps to bear loneliness and cross -

And when they all, women upon women,

Who make up Eve, yet is my rib

A call only for the Lady Mary,

A call only to look upon God the Mother,

To praise love with my lip,

Who chooses me, the divine Sophia.

When Lilith comes in lonely night

And on the peaks the goats mate

And Lilith with the eden power

Lonely ones fool by lifting their skirts,

Then blocks of hard rock stand before the heart

And deserts spread out, the splendour of the wasteland,

Far are the gardens and the rosebushes

And no lark in the gardens laughs.

O night, in thy gloom at home,

How empty and lonely are the doves' nests,

How desolate is the hermit's place!

Come, gracious one, to the desolate hermitage,

Be the hermit's friend and sister

And lie with him in his bed.

Such a hunger for man took

Possessed me, I mean to drown!

I saw the bells in the towers flashing,

From which no comfort came to me,

I saw the beautiful mothers' cheek shame

And saw the beautiful women's eyelashes beckon,

I saw the philosophers' ideas limp

And saw the readers of the Bible lame in the loins.

Now I am tired and drunk with wine,

Now I long for a human heart

And for the love of a woman's soul.

Mary, my soul full of misery

And my heart's melancholy full of pain

Caress me with your spark of God!

I say to thee: Blessed art thou, and God is with thee!

And God is with thee! I hear thee saying

Your blessing to me, God's blessing,

God's love to me in the days of suffering.

To the depressed in the sarcophagi

Of fear your love imparts rest.

How sweetly you smile on me in my lamentations,

When I weep for pain and weakness.

Yes, even in dreams you are present,

I say no to Gemma and Xanthippe...

And yes and you to the Queen of Peace!

If I were always in the dream realm, where you tenderly

Let me share in your being,

Thou my dear wife from the beginning!

And must I be lonely and unhappy?

Wisdom's mother is loneliness?

The muse of all muses is suffering?

Following Christ is the agony of the cross?

I long for a man - no,

Not for such a man as far and wide

The multitude is bred of time,

How weary I am of them, how alone

Do I walk the paths of fate into the night,

Of the path to unhappiness familiar.

How often I have cried for early death!

With black hair the Madonna watches,

With black eyes my bride smiles,

- - - Black Madonna Melancholy!

When the Church calls you her mother,

But in me lives the special vision..,

That fervently burns in my soul:

To me you are bride, spouse, dear wife.

The spirit sinks its balm dew into me

And enlightens me with its wisdom:

I am made for the flower blue,

The lily's shape, the rose's mouth.

My heart is sore from my mother,

But all my happiness is the longed-for bride!

And though I howl like a mad dog -

I have seen the moon's queen!

As a carpenter she handed the hammer,

She, all my rejoicing, ah, in my woe!

Saint Joseph, come, thou Jesus' foster-father,

Thou holy bridegroom of Mary!

Be thou my model, protector and counsellor

And teach me, thou offspring of David's tribe,

To be a man after God's own heart, to cherish the lamb

To cherish in the heart's inner throne

And always with the Beloved Wife

To serve only for heavenly reward.

Patron saint of the dying, with all gentleness

Grant me a homecoming full of peace!

To you I consecrate my Marian dwelling

As a house of song and prayer hereafter,

To thee, whom I love, I consecrate the light lily,

All my desire for a holy family...

The priest was looking for a husband of Mary,

Who may please the Holy Spirit.

We will draw lots from the ephod,

As the chosen one is called the Corne.

The spirit as a gentle dove circles

Alone over Joseph's almond branches,

Feeding him with the fresh dew of love

And bends to him with humble inclination.

From the man after God's heart be silent

Wisdom not, to the holy David.

Mary, show all your suitors

How you found your peace with One,

O queen of peace and reconciliation,

Thou didst choose a husband from among the sons!

O temple of wisdom, Virgin with the veil

Before the Holy of Holies, the bridal chamber,

How I feel for that poor suitor,

Who broke his unchosen staff!

Who wept for love spurned, alas!

How with his soul my mind feels!

Then he carried his soul's misfortune

To Mount Carmel, became a hermit.

Under the juniper his longing glows

For eternal rest in Mary's bosom.

There glows in his inner region

Love's heart, the red mystic rose.

Mary comes, holding a little lamb in her arms,

Chooses Shalak to be her mystic bridegroom...

Worker of God, servant of the Word,

I will carve Mary beautiful stanzas.

I look confidently to my heavenly gate,

In whose bosom millions of children wail.

I flee from the worse every day

Herod's servants into the barren desert

Mizraim, my beloved will take care,

I rest under the constellation of her breasts.

With every stroke of my hammer

I atoned for guilt, I turned to Mary.

Her blessing guides me to the starry shore

Of the morning stars to eternal rest.

I shall fall asleep in her arms -

In heaven I feel heartfelt pity...

Blessed are you more than all women,

Who gives peace to my soul.

I flee to thee with holy trust,

I, whose soul loves only with pain...

You women, if you stayed with Mary,

You would become holy, you would become love!

I find no love, I am saddened,

How I wish to leave this earth!

Mary, the hardships of our hearts meet us,

Lay thy nuptial veil upon my heart

I would unite in fervent tenderness

With thy love my love's pain!

O give the blessing! May my pain

Be a blessing to my loved ones!

I see my soul sore, torn,

Broken is my heart into a thousand pieces,

Mind and spirit confused, flesh torn,

Divided in lust and boredom.

I hang from the tower red ropes,

Whether Jesus come to deliver me from myself.

O Saviour come and heal my soul,

Thy soul's sorrow slay the wicked,

At thy wounds my heart shall recover,

For thy broken heart is all love!

O let me be of thy nature

And sadness from thy garden dew

And sorrow from thy woe of love

And glory from thy glory!

O Heart of Mary, heal my heart,

O Heart of Mary, anoint my wound,

O Heart of Mary, one my pain

With that pain in the bottom of your heart!

O kiss me with your red mouth,

Painful love's crimson rose

That I may be healed at thy rose-red mouth

And, knowing God, rest in thy bosom!

Burnt thorn bush, you in the seat of Moses,

Let me also burn, but not burn!

O that I may kiss thee in a red robe!

To know thee, heart to heart giving!

O red rose with its glowing lustre,

My heart wears love's wreath of thorns for thee!

Mary, water of the new birth,

In which I bathe my sore limbs,

As if it were in the fountain of Lourdes,

I bathe my spirit in your grace.

The breath draws near to me from the ark of the covenant,

That my spirit's breath it may renew.

My body becomes pure like white soft jade,

I am anointed with the Holy Spirit's faithfulness.

Mary, clothe me anew, for your consecration,

Make me red as a rose

That my beauty may gladly receive the shyness

As a love greeting from Zevaoth.

Clothed like St. John

I am the rose red of the Man of Sorrows.

Eh, dear one, become the sacrifice of love,

By consecrating all your sufferings,

Wear your heart's crown of thorns bravely,

As if you were all in my Jesus!

Eh, dear one, when you pray in the spirit,

Thou art a beautiful rose red to me.

Do you know what my love promises you?

I'll pluck thee rose red at thy death

And plant thee in Eden! My commandment

Thou hast obeyed, so I give thee delight,

And my prayer asketh Zevaoth,

To wed thee as a sun of joy.

If thou wilt consecrate all thy love to me,

I will gladden thee for ever and ever!

O fair darling, I am thy bride,

You dwell in my heart's sanctuary,

With tears I see thee so clear dewy,

Poet's flower, little blue flower,

I rejoice in thy true glory

That all thy love-song has become prayer.

You pray for the fertility of the field,

That thou mayest find an Eden even in the north.

I love thee, I will not murder thee,

Don't you be consumed with fear,

I know you are of the Order of Mary,

I thank you for the songs you sang,

We listen to your loving sonnets

Up here in the fair heavenly beds.

I dedicate to you the hour of my grandmother's death,

The Lord of Psalms was her good shepherd,

She listened to my song from a singer's mouth,

When Jesus came with wedding myrtle,

Mary, who entertained her at the wedding feast,

Who was my nurse and I her son,

With a sky-blue apron girding thee,

Give her milk, she drank the poppies at last,

She suffered in the life of cold men's scorn.

And yet remained philanthropic, yet remained good,

From the wood of the tree of life be her throne,

So I beseech thee, the blood of her blood,

So I beseech thee, guide of souls,

Lead her to God's eternal love!

O Mother of God, Mother Moist Earth,

I pray, as an earthly being, for happiness,

That love may come to me on this earth,

Give me a gracious look,

Oh, do not draw the sword of God's fury,

Envelop me in loving mercy,

Lead me back to the joy of youth

And let me rest in the fair arms

Of the woman to whose heart I want to warm,

To whom I will be father, brother and son

And darling with the flaming charms.

Give me on earth already the reward of heaven,

The mystic secret of fair marriage

- The Father's will alone be done!

O Jesus Christ, genius of poets,

O Lord and Saviour of mercies,

Be to us a patient judge

And wrap us in the garment of mercy,

Mary, our mother, God's maiden,

O all-holy Jerusalem,

Thou art the hope of our mortality,

Give us our happiness in Bethlehem,

Give us new life, us breath in the clay,

May you help, counsel and succour,

Be our breath pleasing to Jesus,

Let us see the fruit of thy womb,

Lead us in the way of true peace

And let us love - even with our senses!

O Father, hear my psalms of suffering,

Which I sing to thee as thy sufferer,

Only ashes do I eat before the date palm,

Thou didst banish me in great affliction,

O Lord, I'll put on sackcloth and ashes

And gird me with my loneliness!

By the bitter waters of Mara I lonely pondered

I wondered if the way to Elim was still far?

Let springs rush, uncovered fountains,

And let the green pastures be fruitful for me

And comfort me with the purple blood of the vines,

And let honey drip of sweet delights

And rich dates from the date palms

And let me live, let me live blissfully!

Alas, suddenly how alone, alas, loneliness,

Since all hearts are far from my heart,

The night wraps me in its black dress,

Alone the evening star shines on me.

O holy of holies! O body of the Lord!

I adore you, sweet child Jesus!

I salute you, beautiful star of the sea,

You come to me, your sign is the wind,

Bind the soul of mine in thy pouch,

O beautiful queen of love, Mary,

Thou art so lovely, so sweet, so soft and gentle,

Perfect beauty thou of Jeremiah,

O woman who found me in blood and tears,

O my comforter in the land of woe!

High praises my soul to the Lord God

And my spirit sings rejoicing to my Saviour!

So sang before us the beautiful sea star,

The flower blue of my childhood isle.

Mercy to us children gave us then

As a young beautiful mother from the cross

In his testament of love the Saviour,

Who suffered for the love of all men!

Why are you sad, my soul? Charms

Aroused thy passions and impulses.

Mary, thwart discouragement

And give me new hope, new love!

Mary, girls love your name,

I am alone with you in Jesus. Amen.

How grateful I am to you, the beautiful one,

To thee I offer all my gratitude,

Grant to our hearts holy reconciliation

And peace to our love's passions!

I am alone in the land of misery,

Lord, speak a word and my heart will be healed.

Though I am shunned by all hearts

I'll put my heart in Jesus' sore heart!

I will give all the praise from my mouth

To the angel, the judge of my song,

To the woman who understands me from the bottom of my heart,

Singing my praises and playing my cymbal,

Who lonely on the mountain white rose...

From face to face God spoke to face Moses.

Mary, give me love, great love,

That all may see that you love me, Marie,

That I may practice to love thee holy,

Thou of my inmost being harmony,

Thee my love-sympathy blesses,

O star of the sea, O queen of peace,

O carpenter! Woman, I consecrate her,

She is a flame in my mind,

I give her friend to thy heart,

Wrap her in your motherly mantle!

I ask not for myself - that I may win,

I ask, for Jesus her life's change,

That in thee, Mary, her covenant rest,

In the most holy mystery...

To the departed I have consecrated

As a sacrifice of atonement holy flesh from the lamb,

I sang the memory of the dead

To the kingdom, on the trunk of my cross.

On All Saints' Day the flame of the Purgatory

Of the Purgatory left the dear soul,

In the heart of the Madonna my nurse

Was crowned with the heavenly jewel.

O tear, steal thee from my eye,

And salt, tear, my bread's butter.

The dear Mother of God without blemish

Gave me a dear mother in heaven,

Who wraps me little child in her love,

To comfort all my tears dim!

Then I walked in the green wet meadow

By her new cedar house alone,

There came an angel from Paradise

And wrapped me in the light of love.

This is the teaching in the cathedral of Roma

And message of my Queen of Peace:

The souls rise from the stream of fire, ah,

They rise to the celestial spheres!

So my grandmother became an angel to me,

To be mother to me of the kingdom of heaven!

Like warm milk and honey her aroma

And her wings like the snow,

Like a dream is my grandmother's swinging dress

And bears the cross and is consecrated to Mary!

O woman! She sat so long in her armchair

And gazed dreamingly at the lives of men,

On her hearth tea was boiling in the kettle,

She thought of her happiness: she thought of giving.

Must my tear-damp eyelid tremble, too,

I must think of her loving kindness.

I want to weave myself into her aura

And like her, gladly give.

May my angel guide me from heaven,

The dear figure of light, the white shadow.

May she sink me into Mary

In total devotion like a husband.

The North Sea fishing boat is named after her:

Ah granny, messenger of the Blessed Mother!

On earth our mothers cannot

Love us little children as our mothers do,

When I was a boy I escaped into poetry,

For the cold world of my parents was bitter to me;

But you made me a poor knight

And made me soup of milk and tangerines;

Then the reaper fetched the golden stalk home,

I did not see your mask, your puppet;

But now you come like a shooting star

And wrap me motherly in love!

You teach me (write it down, you fingertip),

You teach me to be a mother to St Mary!

For only in heaven do mothers become mothers....

O Mother of God, look at the Poor Knight!

She speaks: My heart is throbbing with love

And I am grateful to thee for thy bounty,

I comfort the tears of thy sorrow...

And cover with the veil all guilt.

Every morning I am new and fresh

And by thy side all the way.

I give thee from the consecrated table

The nuptial meat; to the feast go!

I hold your desire in my heart

And will give thee as the Father wills.

Bear the pain of your love joyfully

And gather thyself in prayer pious and still,

Then I will love thee and speak to thee,

I, Paradise's dear Lady of Eden!

I lay life, happiness, misfortune and death

before you today: You shall choose life!

In love follow the holy commandment,

To love the Eternal and the souls!

On this day I give you strength and power,

Do not be afraid, you need not despair,

I will go forth and sanctify

Sanctify to me and bear thy weakness.

Take in the land where milk and honey flow,

Give habitation to my tent of revelation,

But do not prostrate yourself before the gods!

I am the King who greets with peace,

Who is well pleased with thy prayer and thy singing,

Thy Saviour, thy Redeemer, and thy Redeemer!

I need a heart that feels love for me,

A heart that cares and guides and directs me,

A heart that plays poetry with me

And prepares my bed with tenderness,

A warm heart for me to rest upon,

That gives peace to my burning desire,

That stands by, I walk as a man of sorrow,

A heart full of holiness I will adore.

Mary, this heart I find in you,

Therefore I choose thee Queen of Hearts,

In loving, your love I call for!

Oh, your gentle love turns to me

The love of God to me and sinks into my flesh

My flesh, I unite myself to wisdom's flesh!

In solitude alone in exile,

O Flower of Lisieux, I think like you:

Banishment is the earth, gives not much,

My all is eternal rest!

So I too go on pilgrimage to my homeland,

To the paradisiacal shores of bliss!

Existence is a breath, vanishes in an instant,

But the grace of God endures forever!

Marie, my all and all on the path,

She leads me to happiness, to the Garden of Eden!

But I wish, O virgin pure as jade,

Let my poetic speech remain behind

And leave a trace of me on earth,

I see already your heavenly figure!

God knows about all your desires,

God looks to you and wants to help you too,

Be thou but kind to thy people

And bathe your spirit in God's breath.

God wants to help you, listen to him in prayer,

The words of God live in your heart

Of silence and trust is written

And of the servant also, the man of sorrows!

I call thee to repentance and trust,

Do not let Satan gain power.

You pray, pray, pray for the women,

Even for the blessed, even for the child.

Take in your hand the pink rosary,

I'll lead you to the mystic wedding dance!...

Your sorrow, my most beloved, is also mine,

You but patiently bear your woes,

If our hearts, pierced with sword, are one..,

The shepherd will feed us in the meadows,

The shepherd shall feed us in the meadows,

There are the roses of Jesus sprouted.

And if you stand rejected by beautiful women -

So stand I before hearts that are closed!

- Mary, let us weep together,

Let us sink in tears into each other's arms

And kiss the tears from our eyelashes!

However much we must suffer on earth

And drink bitter cups of bitter suffering,

We will unite in bliss!...

When a mother caresses her little one,

He enjoys tenderness with pleasure,

When she caresses him and gently flatters him

And her hair falls like a veil.

The tenderness that is my soul's love

In prayer (hear my confession)

Is intimate tenderness of total devotion

Quite like a bridal knowledge,

Is overflowing, bewildering,

Is sweetly intoxicating! O tenderness

Of the dove of Zion, tenderly twirling me,

O tenderness of a dearly beloved maiden,

Whom my soul with rapture beholds!

I consecrate myself to your heart, beautiful bride!

O stamp of wisdom, every moment,

By God ordained, to man not to be grasped,

Presents death and life, and sorrow and happiness,

We can only receive to mature.

What God gives us to grasp in reverence

And every joy also of the moment,

It is wise not to refrain from action,

In the now lies all the grace of all happiness!

Is everything meaningless, futile, vain vapour?

Created by God, it is all beautiful!

O wisdom, teach me the art of love

(In all melancholy moaning),

For the earth is vain and empty,

- The heavens gleam above Evi's vain!...

I consecrate my poetry to you, Lady,

Mary, epitome of the blue flower,

In everything I sing thee, I sing her,

Before thee I renounce this day the earthly glory,

My name shall be written in heaven,

My song a part of heaven's liturgy,

Sung sweetly in the blissful tumult

Of saints and angels around Marie!

But I died once and my verses remained

And my song of thy beauty show,

Shall say, "The poet I would love!

I would have been his bride! a woman;

Then think, woman: you would have spurned me!

- The poet is loved only by Marie.

Today you do not give work and service in diligence,

Today you give me a boundless longing

For God's paradise! O praise and glory

To thee, God's paradise! since no tears

No more flowing and no more suffering, no more plague

No more torment of the heart, despair and distress!

Since on the eternal wedding day

Wisdom gives divine pleasure!

Then, too, Mary's kiss of love

From her smiling, beautiful fig's mouth,

There we walk united by the river of life,

Married together at the bottom of Jesus' heart -

As we as husband and wife love each other eternally,

In the Godhead our love is within!

SECOND BOOK

(2012)

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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!

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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!

Josef Maria von der Ewigen Weisheit – Werke

Inhalt

SONNETS TO MADONNA MARY

BY TORSTEN SCHWANKE

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