Far off art thou from depths my feelings hold,Far off from essence of my thoughts untold;
Dost thou suppose, O listener of my song,My feelings but perfume breathed the whole day long?
If I bestow upon thy heart content,The soul grows clear for none but what's apparent;
My love was not like others' consolation,But love of certainty's illumination;
Forget not God in wisdom willed that weShould reunite our spirits' enmity;
I showed thee love both chaste and purified,I showed thee thought that in my breast did hide;
Forever doth my heart address thee—wouldIt poured near thee love's abundant flood;
If thou supposest that my feeling's toneIs melody the enchantment makes its own,
God knows my love is but a breath that fliesAbove all doubt, ascending toward the skies;
Ask thou thy God how our love came to beA spark of phantoms blooming ceaselessly;
Ask Him to grant thy heart a flash of lightTo be a beacon in the darkest night;
Walk thou thy path through life in peace, and heedLest thou accept the coward's life indeed;
I strove to grasp the essence of thy love,And drowned in ocean deep and vast above;
Believe my heart—how thou didst draw me near,And captive held my soul without a fear;
Thou led'st me through horizons, wandering free,Exalted far above all sin to be;
Thine is all being—what am I but oneThy vessel sailing to abundance's sun?
If I bestow upon thy heart desire,God sent me as a poet's treasured fire;
I grant my sorrow's warmth—how long I've knownThe grieving soul in cruel despair alone;
I fed thy heart from tenderness, that heMight spurn all medicine for wounds that be;
Thy gentle touch upon my burning plightMade me a gleam to guide the lost at night;
Satisfy thou my heart from kindness—mineIs stubborn heart that strayed 'twixt thoughts divine;
Love fills my breast—I cannot reach the heightOf hopes, nor is thy passion my respite;
Tenderness spread and became a blazing light,Bestowing on thy world my feelings' might;
I showed thee hopes as shadows of delight,And raised thy mention to the visible height;
Wait, my beloved—stir not what lies still,Take heed—the heart is not an empty sill;
Light and fire in the breast, whose flame ascendsAnd sweeps love's world behind the veil it sends;
It is the thirsty longing of the night,And yearning moan of love that waits for light;
I am thy cup, O thirsty one, for bliss—Fill thou thy heart with nectar's fragrant kiss;
I am thy shadow calling on the hill,Drink purity's perfume without restraint;
Yet tarry when thou glimps'st my soul's own fire,Singing verse from my hidden jewels' desire;
Poems unfold their secrets, soft and low,That lived within my feelings' fold below;
I love my God, exalted, glorious,And love in thee the love of what is pious;
Reproach or pardon if I touched with graceThe lost—perchance a poet holds that place;
I was but symbol of inspiring soul—Doth thy breast narrow for love's rarest whole?
Thou and I are guidance for the confused,For the despairing, and for hearts abused.
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