Though holy doctors have uncovered many mysteries and wonders, and devout souls have understood them in this earthly condition of ours, yet the greater part still remains to be unfolded by them, and even to be understood by them.

We must then dig deeply in Christ. He is like a rich mine with many pockets containing treasures: however deep we dig we will never find their end or their limit. Indeed, in every pocket new seams of fresh riches are discovered on all sides.

For this reason the apostle Paul said of Christ: In him are hidden all the treasures of the wisdom and knowledge of God. The soul cannot enter into these treasures, nor attain them, unless it first crosses into and enters the thicket of suffering, enduring interior and exterior labours, and unless it first receives from God very many blessings in the intellect and in the senses, and has undergone long spiritual training.

All these are lesser things, disposing the soul for the lofty sanctuary of the knowledge of the mysteries of Christ: this is the highest wisdom attainable in this life.

Would that men might come at last to see that it is quite impossible to reach the thicket of the riches and wisdom of God except by first entering the thicket of much suffering, in such a way that the soul finds there its consolation and desire. The soul that longs for divine wisdom chooses first, and in truth, to enter the thicket of the cross.

Saint Paul therefore urges the Ephesians not to grow weary in the midst of tribulations, but to be steadfast and rooted and grounded in love, so that they may know with all the saints the breadth, the length, the height and the depth – to know what is beyond knowledge, the love of Christ, so as to be filled with all the fullness of God.

The gate that gives entry into these riches of his wisdom is the cross; because it is a narrow gate, while many seek the joys that can be gained through it, it is given to few to desire to pass through it.

Spiritual Canticle: (The Poem), tr. David Lewis, 1909

SONG OF THE SOUL AND THE BRIDEGROOM 

I 

THE BRIDE 

Where hast Thou hidden Thyself,

And abandoned me in my groaning, O my Beloved?

Thou hast fled like the hart,

Having wounded me.

I ran after Thee, crying; but Thou wert gone. 

II 

O shepherds, you who go

Through the sheepcots up the hill,

If you shall see Him

Whom I love the most,

Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die. 

III 

In search of my Love

I will go over mountains and strands;

I will gather no flowers,

I will fear no wild beasts;

And pass by the mighty and the frontiers. 

IV 

O groves and thickets

Planted by the hand of the Beloved;

O verdant meads

Enamelled with flowers,

Tell me, has He passed by you? 

V 

ANSWER OF THE CREATURES 

A thousand graces diffusing

He passed through the groves in haste,

And merely regarding them

As He passed

Clothed them with His beauty. 

VI 

THE BRIDE 

Oh! who can heal me?

Give me at once Thyself,

Send me no more

A messenger

Who cannot tell me what I wish. 

VII 

All they who serve are telling me

Of Thy unnumbered graces;

And all wound me more and more,

And something leaves me dying,

I know not what, of which they are darkly speaking. 

VIII 

But how thou perseverest, O life,

Not living where thou livest;

The arrows bring death

Which thou receivest

From thy conceptions of the Beloved. 

IX 

Why, after wounding

This heart, hast Thou not healed it?

And why, after stealing it,

Hast Thou thus abandoned it,

And not carried away the stolen prey? 

X 

Quench Thou my troubles,

For no one else can soothe them;

And let mine eyes behold Thee,

For Thou art their light,

And I will keep them for Thee alone. 

XI 

Reveal Thy presence,

And let the vision and Thy beauty kill me,

Behold the malady

Of love is incurable

Except in Thy presence and before Thy face. 

XII 

O crystal well!

Oh that on Thy silvered surface

Thou wouldest mirror forth at once

Those eyes desired

Which are outlined in my heart! 

XIII 

Turn them away, O my Beloved!

I am on the wing:  

THE BRIDEGROOM 

Return, My Dove!

The wounded hart

Looms on the hill

In the air of thy flight and is refreshed. 

XIV 

My Beloved is the mountains,

The solitary wooded valleys,

The strange islands,

The roaring torrents,

The whisper of the amorous gales; 

XV 

The tranquil night

At the approaches of the dawn,

The silent music,

The murmuring solitude,

The supper which revives, and enkindles love. 

XVI 

Catch us the foxes,

For our vineyard hath flourished;

While of roses

We make a nosegay,

And let no one appear on the hill. 

XVII 

O killing north wind, cease!

Come, south wind, that awakenest love!

Blow through my garden,

And let its odours flow,

And the Beloved shall feed among the flowers. 

XVIII 

O nymphs of Judea!

While amid the flowers and the rose-trees

The amber sends forth its perfume,

Tarry in the suburbs,

And touch not our thresholds. 

XIX 

Hide thyself, O my Beloved!

Turn Thy face to the mountains,

Do not speak,

But regard the companions

Of her who is travelling amidst strange islands. 

XX 

THE BRIDEGROOM 

Light-wing'd birds,

Lions, fawns, bounding does,

Mountains, valleys, strands,

Waters, winds, heat,

And the terrors that keep watch by night; 

XXI 

By the soft lyres

And the siren strains, I adjure you,

Let your fury cease,

And touch not the wall,

That the bride may sleep in greater security. 

XXII 

The bride has entered

The pleasant and desirable garden,

And there reposes to her heart’s content;

Her neck reclining

On the sweet arms of the Beloved. 

XXIII 

Beneath the apple-tree

There wert thou betrothed;

There I gave thee My hand,

And thou wert redeemed

Where thy mother was corrupted. 

XXIV 

THE BRIDE 

Our bed is of flowers

By dens of lions encompassed,

Hung with purple,

Made in peace,

And crowned with a thousand shields of gold. 

XXV 

In Thy footsteps

The young ones run Thy way;

At the touch of the fire

And by the spiced wine,

The divine balsam flows. 

XXVI 

In the inner cellar

Of my Beloved have I drunk; and when I went forth

Over all the plain

I knew nothing,

And lost the flock I followed before. 

XXVII 

There He gave me His breasts,

There He taught me the science full of sweetness.

And there I gave to Him

Myself without reserve;

There I promised to be His bride. 

XXVIII 

My soul is occupied,

And all my substance in His service;

Now I guard no flock,

Nor have I any other employment:

My sole occupation is love. 

XXIX 

If, then, on the common land

I am no longer seen or found,

You will say that I am lost;

That, being enamoured,

I lost myself; and yet was found. 

XXX 

Of emeralds, and of flowers

In the early morning gathered,

We will make the garlands,

Flowering in Thy love,

And bound together with one hair of my head. 

XXXI 

By that one hair

Thou hast observed fluttering on my neck,

And on my neck regarded,

Thou wert captivated;

And wounded by one of my eyes. 

XXXII 

When Thou didst regard me,

Thine eyes imprinted in me Thy grace:

For this didst Thou love me again,

And thereby mine eyes did merit

To adore what in Thee they saw 

XXXIII 

Despise me not,

For if I was swarthy once

Thou canst regard me now;

Since Thou hast regarded me,

Grace and beauty hast Thou given me. 

XXXIV 

THE BRIDEGROOM 

The little white dove

Has returned to the ark with the bough;

And now the turtle-dove

Its desired mate

On the green banks has found. 

XXXV 

In solitude she lived,

And in solitude built her nest;

And in solitude, alone

Hath the Beloved guided her,

In solitude also wounded with love. 

XXXVI 

THE BRIDE 

Let us rejoice, O my Beloved!

Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty,

To the mountain and the hill,

Where the pure water flows:

Let us enter into the heart of the thicket. 

XXXVII 

We shall go at once

To the deep caverns of the rock

Which are all secret,

There we shall enter in

And taste of the new wine of the pomegranate. 

XXXVIII 

There thou wilt show me

That which my soul desired;

And there Thou wilt give at once,

O Thou, my life!

That which Thou gavest me the other day. 

XXXIX 

The breathing of the air,

The song of the sweet nightingale,

The grove and its beauty

In the serene night,

With the flame that consumes, and gives no pains. 

XL 

None saw it;

Neither did Aminadab appear

The siege was intermitted,

And the cavalry dismounted

At the sight of the waters.

 xxxx» cont

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