De superexcellencia canori iubili, et quod nee dici nee scribi possit; nee sodalem recipit; et de caritate canencium et de elacione habencium scienciam adquisitam

De superexcellencia canori iubili, et quod nee dici nee scribi possit; nee sodalem recipit; et de caritate canencium et de elacione habencium scienciam adquisitam

Indeed, the lover of the Almighty is drawn not without reason to the heights of understanding, and to sing a sweet song that bursts forth in the soul, which ardently and clearly burns with the fire of love and expands into a delightful devotion, existing in hymns that beautifully breathe the sweetness of the Mediator. From this, as one sings into every delight, a source of inner fervor bursts forth, embraced in joy, and with singular comfort, the flow of the beloved's most cherished affection is adorned in the best of ardors. It shines brightly, more radiant than snow and redder than a rose, because it is ignited by divine fire, and it is adorned with the purity of conscience as it walks in white. For this reason, he is taken in secret above others, because in his mind remains a melody, and a sweet abundance of fervor dwells within him; so that he not only offers in himself rich sacrifices, and pays praises to Christ in a spiritual song, but also encourages others to love God and to devote themselves perfectly and eagerly. To the one who loves Him so, He also deigns to bring joy even in this exile, to the one who clings to Him with all their heart. The joy that comes from loving Jesus surpasses all understanding; I can't even begin to express the smallest part of this joy, because who can articulate such an ineffable fervor? Who can express such infinite sweetness? But if I could express this ineffable joy, I would feel as if I were trying to drain an ocean drop by drop, and in doing so, I would be pouring it into a tiny hole in the ground. Indeed, I can hardly taste even a drop of that immense sweetness of eternal delight, which I could barely begin to express to you; nor can you, being dull of senses and distracted by carnal thoughts, grasp it unless you are endowed with a wise mind and devoted to divine service. If you truly strive to understand heavenly things and are inflamed by divine love, without a doubt, the sweetness of that delight will abundantly flow into you, filling your hearts with a wonderful joy that is beyond words. The more you are filled with love, the more you will be capable of experiencing that joy. Those who love God more ardently and sweetly in this life will stand closer to Him eternally. But those who are weighed down by divine love are filled with earthly filth, and thus they cling to empty tales, seeking pleasures in visible external goods, while forgetting the inner treasures, whose height is hidden from mortal eyes; as they pursue transient comforts with all their intention, they vanish from the glorious eternity. Therefore, it’s clear that desire exults in the future; love, however, reigns, while in the present it is acted upon by many, indeed almost by all, as desire is even introduced into the royal court; love, as if consenting to destruction, is imprisoned, indeed cast out of the kingdom into exile. But still, it finds a dwelling place in the hearts of the chosen. It withdraws from the proud and rests in the humble. Many miserable people are deceived, pretending to love God while they do not truly love Him, thinking they can be occupied with worldly affairs and genuinely enjoy the love of Christ Jesus with sweetness. They think they can wander through the world and be contemplative; but those who truly love God fervently believe that this is impossible, and they have stepped into a life of contemplation. But they, lacking the heavenly wisdom, are not filled with it; instead, they are inflated with acquired knowledge and have a poor understanding of themselves, and they still do not know how to hold onto God with love. Therefore, I cry out and, with longing, say, 'Make me whole, God, for the holy one has failed.' The voices of the singers fall silent; the fervor of the holy lovers is not visible. Each person turns aside to their own wicked path; the pain they conceive in their heart, they do not cease to bring to fruition. Their days are consumed in vanity, and their years pass by in haste. Alas, the young man is consumed by the fire of desire, just like the virgin who is nursing, alongside the old man. But for me, O good Jesus, it is good to cling to you; for my soul will not come to their counsel, but sitting alone with you, I will rejoice, for you are sweet when praised, so that to continue praising you is not hard, but delightful; it is not bitter but more pleasant than all bodily and worldly delights. It's truly delightful and desirable to focus on your praises, because everything that exists is created with such great love and indeed has a wonderfully fragrant essence. So the lover, burning with desire, longs to embrace the incorporeal, and with an intellectual gaze seeks to behold his beloved, purging all fleeting and distracting thoughts that do not lead to unity. He surely has a cry directed to his Creator, stirred up and bursting forth from the innermost depths of his passionate love, as if he were calling out from afar. The voice is raised in the inner self, which is found only in the most ardent lover, as is fitting in the way. I find myself lacking in understanding and dulled in my intellect, because I can't adequately describe this cry, nor can I even begin to grasp how joyful it is to think, to feel, and to express it in my own limited way. But I couldn't and can't explain it to you, because I don't know how to surpass that feeling, unless perhaps I want to say that this cry is a song. Who then would sing to me the songs of my canticles, and the joys of my emotions with the fervor of love, and the tender longing of my heart, so that at least I might subtly explore the essence of my being through the songs of charity, and the measure of my melodies, in which I might be deemed worthy, if perhaps I could find myself exempt from misfortune, and what I do not presume to proclaim through me, because I have not yet found what I desire, I would rest in the solace of my companion with sweetness. Indeed, if I were to consider that beautiful song hidden completely from external ears (which I dare to announce as true), I wish I could find the author of that melody, a man who, even if not in words, would still sing my glory in writing, and I wouldn't be ashamed to declare the connections of the spirits in the most noble name before my beloved, expressing them through singing and spiritual inspiration. Indeed, this would be more precious to me than gold, and I wouldn't trade anything valuable for it that is found in this exile. Indeed, the beauty of virtue dwells with Him, and the secrets of love are more perfectly explored. I would love him like my own heart, and there wouldn’t be anything I would intend to hide from him, because the song I long to understand would express itself to me, and the joyful shout of my delight would be made clearer. In this revelation, I would rejoice even more, or at least strive more abundantly; for the fire of love would be shown to me, and the joyful sound would clearly shine forth. A noisy thought won't be without a speaker, nor will I be troubled if I labor in uncertainty. Now, indeed, I am weighed down by the overwhelming pains of exile and the burdensome softness that barely allows me to stand, and while I burn within with an uncreated heat, outside I hide like a dark and wretched thing without light. So, my God, to whom I offer my devotion without pretense, will You remember me in my misery? Because I am wretched and in need of mercy; won't you lift the burden that binds me and bring me into the light, so that I may have what I long for at the right time? And the work that I have done, which I have failed in, you will change into a sweet dwelling, so that the melody may continue where sadness lingered, and I may see in the beauty of its splendor the beloved one I long for, and praise him eternally, held by his touch, because I languish for him.