AMor de caritate, Perché m’ài sì ferito
The Wounding of Love
The soul laments the overwhelming, consuming nature of divine love that leaves it wounded and captive.
Love of charity, why have you wounded me so? The heart is completely torn apart and burns with love. Burning and igniting, nowhere can I find a place to escape, for I am bound; I consume away like wax in the fire, living in death, languishing in a weakened state, longing to be able to flee for a little while, and in the furnace I find myself trapped; alas, where have I been led? Is the languishing really that strong? In living, it is to die; such is the intensity of the passion! As I tried to love Christ, I longed for sweetness, thinking I could find peace in a gentle state, free from every pain; yet I endured torment that I couldn't escape, as my heart was pierced by heat; I can't express the form of what I see, for I die in delight and live without a heart. I've lost my heart and all my reason, desire and pleasure, and every feeling; all beauty seems to me like ugly dirt, delights with riches feel like loss; a tree of love with great fruit, planted in my heart, gives me suffering, for it has caused such a change in me without delay, throwing everything out: desire, reason, and strength. To buy love, I've given everything, the world and myself, all in exchange; if everything created were mine, I'd give it for love without any contract; and I find myself deceived by love, for having given everything, I don't know where I stand; for love, I'm undone, held captive; but because I've sold myself, I have no worth. Believe me, the people who recall me, friends who were with me on this path; but whoever is given cannot be given again, nor can a servant escape his lordship; first, a stone would have to be softened before the love that holds me in its power; all my desire is so focused, united, transformed by love: Who can endure love?
Ascent to the Creator
The soul turns away from all created things to fix its gaze solely upon the Creator.
Fire and iron can’t separate them; nothing so united can be divided. Neither pain nor death can ascend to that height where it is enraptured. Beneath itself, it sees all things turning, and it stands above all, pleasing. O soul, how do you ascend to possess such a good? O Christ, from whom this comes to you, embrace it with sweetness. I can no longer see any creature; my whole mind cries out to the Creator. Heaven and earth give me no sweetness; because of Christ's love, everything is foul to me. The sunlight seems dark to me, gazing upon that resplendent face. Cherubim are nothing, beautiful ones meant to teach, seraphim meant to love. Who sees the Lord? So let no one rebuke me anymore if such love makes me go mad; it’s no longer a heart that defends itself against such a love that has taken hold, nor can anyone think with their heart that they shouldn’t be wounded by such a furnace; if I could find a soul that understood me and felt my sorrow, for my heart is consumed! For heaven and earth cry out and always call, and all things that I ought to love. Everyone says with all their heart: love the love that strives to embrace! For that love, since it embraces you, has made us all to draw near to itself; I see so much goodness and kindness from that holy light that spreads from above. I want to love more, if I could, but the more I love, the less my heart finds; more than I can give with what I desire, this is certain without proof; I’ve given everything so that the beloved might possess me, who renews me so much; ancient and new beauty, since I found you, O immeasurable light, of such sweet splendor!
Transformation in Christ
The soul describes the profound, mystical union where it is stripped of self and transformed into the likeness of Christ.
Seeing such beauty, I don't know where it's leading me; my heart melts like wax, and I find myself transformed in Christ. There has never been an exchange as great as putting on Christ while being completely stripped of self; my heart, so transformed, cries out with love, drowning my mind in sweetness. The mind is so bound with sweetness that it stretches out to embrace everything; and the more it gazes upon the beauty of Christ, the more it throws itself outside of itself into Christ with all its richness; it can retain no memory of itself, for now it can give itself nothing, nor can it care for anything, nor can it lose its worth in itself, nor can it sense anything at all. In Christ, transformed, I am almost Christ; united with God, I am wholly divine; above all heights, this is such a great gain of Christ, and all His being is like a queen; now, therefore, how could I be more sorrowful, seeking a remedy for sin when there is no more depth to fall into? Where can I find sin? My ear has been cut off; all foulness has been purged. In Christ, a new creature is born, stripped of the old self; but so greatly does love rise with fervor that the heart seems to be pierced by a knife, the mind, with reason, bears such heat that Christ draws me entirely, for He is so beautiful! I embrace Him and call out in love: 'Love, whom I desire so much, let me die of love!' For you, love, I waste away in longing, and I cry out to embrace you; when you depart, I die while living, I sigh and weep to find you again; and, returning, my heart stretches out, so that everything in you may be transformed; therefore, do not delay any longer: Love, now remember me, for you hold me bound, consume my heart!
The Paradox of Divine Madness
The soul struggles with the apparent madness and loss of reason that accompany such intense divine intimacy.
Sweet love, guard my pain. I can't bear such heat; love has taken hold of me, and I don't know where I am; what I do or say, I can't feel; like someone dazed, I wander the way, often tormented by strong longing; I don't know how to endure such torment, yet I feel nothing, for love has dried up my heart. My heart is pierced; I can't see what I should do or what I often do. And those who see me say they want to know love without action, if it pleases you, Christ. If it doesn't please you, what can I do? To such a degree does love bind my mind that it embraces me so tightly; take away my speaking, wanting, and acting; I lose all sense. I know how to speak, yet now I find myself mute; I see, yet now I am blind and confused; I’ve never seen such a great abyss before: by being silent, I speak, I flee, and I feel bound; descending, I rise, I hold on, and I feel held; outside I know what’s inside, I cast out and I feel cast out; love is overwhelming—why do you make me go mad? Is it possible to die in a furnace from such intense heat? Order this love, you who love me; there’s no virtue without an order found, since finding you binds me so much that my mind, renewed by virtue, desires to love you. I want you to call love what is ordered; the tree is proven by the order of the fruit, which demonstrates the value of everything. All things that I have ordered are made with number and measure, and their end is all arranged, preserved by such order; and even more, love is ordered in its nature. So, in the heat, Alma, are you troubled? For by order you are an exit; the fervor is not a restraint for you.
The Pattern of the Cross
The soul reflects on Christ's own descent into poverty and suffering as the ultimate model for its own transformation.
Christ, who has so stolen my heart, do you say that my mind should be ordered to love, just as after I have been transformed in you, it would be fitting for me to remain? Just as iron that is completely heated, a dawn made radiant by the sun, loses its form to take on another shape, so too is the pure mind clothed in you, love. But because it loses its quality, a thing cannot act on its own; just as something formed has power, it can act and produce fruit. Therefore, it is transformed into truth in you alone, Christ, who is sweet to love. What I do can be attributed to you, not to me; however, if I don't please you, you don't please yourself, love. You know well that if I'm in pain, it's because you, O supreme wisdom, have made me so. This has been true since I was wounded, and when I made a pact with love, which stripped me bare and clothed me with you, I don't know how I was led to a new life. Now I know that I am completely undone, for I lie here with you, love, and the gates are firmly shut. Why did you lead me to such a furnace, if you wanted me to be in temperance? When you gave me such boundless love, you took away all measure from me; since it was enough for me to be small, I have no power to hold you in greatness. Therefore, if there is any failing, Love, it is yours, not mine, because you made this way, Love. You didn't defend yourself from love; you came down from heaven to earth. Love, you descended to such a lowly state, going around in the world as a despised man. You didn't want a house or land; you chose such poverty to enrich our lives, and in dying, you showed the certainty of a love that burns in the heart. As I often wandered through the world, love led you like a captive; in everything, love, you always showed yourself as if nothing was perceived, for standing in the temple, I cried out: "Let anyone who has endured a thirst for love come to drink, for they will be given a boundless love that nourishes with sweetness." You, Wisdom, did not hold back, for your love often overflowed; you were born not of your flesh, but of a human love that would save us. To embrace us on the cross, you ascended, and I believe that for this reason you did not speak, nor did love excuse you before Pilate to fulfill such a transaction on the cross of love. Wisdom, I see, was hidden; only love could be seen; and power was no longer revealed, for it was virtue in sorrow; great was that love that was poured out, for it could not have anything other than love, nor the use in willing, love always binding on the cross and embracing humanity with such love.
The Final Surrender
The soul reaches the end of its journey, pleading for the final consummation of death in love.
Lord Jesus, if I am so in love, intoxicated by such great sweetness, why do you rebuke me if I am overwhelmed and lose all sense with such strength? Since love has so bound you, almost deprived of all your greatness, how could there ever be strength in me to contradict, if I do not wish to be overwhelmed to embrace you, love? For that love which drives me to madness seems to take away wisdom from you, and that love which makes me languish has taken away your power from me; I can no longer endure it, for I am captured by love, and I make no resistance. Give me the sentence that I may be dead from love; I no longer want comfort except to die, love. Love, love that has wounded me so, I can cry out nothing but love; love, love, I am united with you, and all I can do is embrace you; love, love, you have captured me strongly, my heart always spreads out to love; for you I long to languish, Love, that I may be with you, love, out of courtesy, let me die of love. Love, love, Jesus, I have reached the harbor; love, love, Jesus, you have led me here; love, love, Jesus, grant me comfort; love, love, Jesus, you have set my heart on fire; love, love, Jesus, think of the harbor, let me stay, love, always embraced, transformed with you in true love, in the perfect truth of transformed love. Love, love cries out throughout the world; love, love calls out in every thing. Love, love, how deep you are; whoever embraces you more, loves you more. Love, love, you are a round circle, with all the heart that enters you always loves you, for you are the thread and the fabric. Whoever loves you to be clothed, such a sweet feeling, that always cries out love. Love, love, you make me suffer so much; love, love, I can't bear it. Love, love, you give me so much; love, love, I truly believe I'll die. Love, love, you've captured me so deeply; love, love, let me pass into you. Love, sweet languishing, my desired love, my delightful love, drown me in love. Love, love, my heart is breaking; love, love, I feel such a wound. Love, love, your beauty so captivates me, love, love, that I am completely entranced by you. Love, love, I despise living; love, love, my soul is united with you. Love, you are its life: I can no longer depart. Why do you make me languish so, holding me so tightly, love? Love, love, Jesus, my longing, love, I want to die embracing you; love, love, Jesus, my sweet spouse, love, love, I offer you my death; love, love, Jesus, so delightful, you surrender me, transforming me into you; think that I am fainting, Love, I don’t know if I am, Jesus, my hope, engulf me in love.
Read the original Latin
AMor de caritate, Perché m’ài sì ferito? lo cor tutt’ò partito Et arde per amore.
Arde & incende, nullo troua loco, non può fugir però ched è legato; sì se consuma como cera a foco, uiuendo more, languisce stemperato, demanda de poter fugire um poco, et en fornace trouase locato; oimé, dó so menato? A sì forte languire? uiuendo sì è morire, Tanto monta l’ardore!
Nante che el prouasse, demandaua amare Christo, credendo dolzura; en pace de dolceza star pensaua, for d’ogni pena possedendo altura; pruouo tormento qual non me cuitaua, che l cor se me fendesse per calura; non posso dar figura De que ueggio sembianza, ché moio en delectanza Et uiuo senza core.
Aggio perduto el core & senno tutto, uoglia & piacere & tutto sentimento, omne belleza me par loto brutto, delize con riccheze perdimento; un arbore d’amor con grande fructo, en cor piantato, me dà pascimento, che fé tal mutamento En me senza demora, gettando tutto fora, Voglia, senno & uigore.
Per comperar amor tutto aggio dato, lo mondo & mene, tutto per baratto; se tutto fosse mio quel ch’è creato, darìalo per amor senza omne pacto; et trouome d’amor quasi engannato, ché, tutto dato, non so doue so tracto; per amor so desfacto, Pazo sì so tenuto; ma, perché so uenduto, De me non ho ualore.
Credeame la gente reuocare, amici che me fuoro, d’esta uia; ma chi è dato più non se può dare, né seruo far che fugga signorìa; prima la pietra porrìase amollare ch’amor che me tien en sua bailìa; tutta la uoglia mia D’amor sì è enfocata, unita, trasformata: Chi tollerà l’amore?
Fuoco né ferro non li può partire, non se diuide cosa tanto unita; pena né morte già non può salire a quella alteza doue sta rapita; sotto sé uede tutte cose gire, et essa sopra tutte sta gradita; alma, co sè salita A posseder tal bene? Christo, da cui te uene, Abraccial con dolzore.
Già non posso uedere creatura, al Creatore grida tutta mente; cielo né terra non me dà dolzura, per Christo amore tutto m’è fetente; luce de sole sì me pare oscura, uedendo quella faccia resplendente; cherubin son niente, Belli per ensegnare, seraphin per amare. Chi uede lo Signore.
Nullo donqua ormai più me reprenda se tale amore me fa pazo gire, già non è core che più se defenda d’amor sì preso che possa fugire; pensi ciascuno co el cor non se fenda, cotal fornace co possa patire; s’io potesse enuenire Alma che m’entendesse et de me cordoglio hauesse, Ché se strugge lo core!
Ché cielo & terra grida & sempre chiama, et tutte cose ch’io sì deggia amare. ciascuna dice con tutto cuor: ama l’amor ch’à facto briga d’abracciare! ché quello amore, però che te abrama, tutti noi ha facti per ad sé trare; ueggio tanto aruersare Bontade & cortesìa de quella luce pia Che se spande de fuore.
Amare uoglio più, se più potesse, ma, co più ami, lo cor già non troua; più che me dare con ciò cche uolesse non posso, questo è certo senza proua; tutto l’ò dato perché possedesse quel amador che tanto me renoua; belleza antiqua & noua, Da poi che t’ò trouata, o luce smesurata, De sì dolce splendore!
Vedendo tal belleza, sì so tracto de for de me, non so doue portato; lo cor se strugge como cera sfacto, de Christo se retroua figurato; già non si troua mai sì gran baratto uestirse Christo, tutto sé spogliato; lo cor sì trasformato Amor grida che sente, anegace la mente, Tanto sente dolzore!
Ligata sì la mente con dolceza, tutta se destende ad abracciare; et, quanto più reguarda la belleza de Christo, fuor de sé più fa gettare en Christo tutta possa con riccheza; de sé memoria nulla può seruare, ormai a sé più dare Voglia nulla né cura, né può perder ualura De sé omne sentore.
En Christo trasformata, quasi è Christo; con Dio gioncta tutta sta diuina; sopr’ omne altura è sì grande acquisto de Christo e tutto lo suo star regina; or donqua co potesse star più tristo de colpa demandando medicina nulla c’è più sentina; Doue troui peccato, lo uecchio m’è mozato, Purgato omne fetore.
En Christo è nata noua creatura, spogliato lo uechio hom facto nouello; ma tanto l’amor monta con ardura, lo cor par che se fenda con coltello, mente con senno tolle tal calura, Christo me tra’ tutto, tanto è bello! abracciome con ello Et per amor sì chiamo: amor, cui tanto bramo, Famme morir d’amore!
Per te, amor, consumome languendo, et uo stridendo per te abracciare; quando te parti, sì moio uiuendo, sospiro et piango per te retrouare; et, retornando, el cor se ua stendendo, ch’en te se possa tutto trasformare; donqua, più non tardare: Amor, or me souiene, ligato sì me tiene, Consumame lo core!
Resguarda, dolce amor, la pena mia! tanto calore non posso patire; l’amor m’à preso, non so dó me sia, que faccio o dico non posso sentire; como stordito sì uo per la uia, spesso trangoscio per forte languire; non so co sofferire Possa tal tormento, emperò non me sento Che m’à secco lo core.
Cor m’è furato, non posso uedere que deggia fare o que spesso faccia; et, chi me uede, dice che uol sapere amor senza acto se a te Christo piaccia; se non te piace, que posso ualere? de tal mesura la mente m’alaccia l’amor che sì m’abraccia, Tolleme lo parlare, uolere & operare, Perdo tutto sentore.
Sappi parlare, ora so facto muto; uedea, mo so cieco deuentato; sì grande abysso non fo mai ueduto: tacendo parlo, fugo & so legato, scendendo salgo, tengo & so tenuto, de fuor so dentro, caccio & so cacciato; amor esmesurato, Perché me fai empazire? en fornace morire De sì forte calore?
Ordena questo amore tu che m’ami, non è uirtute senza ordene trouata, poiché trouare tanto tu m’abrami, cha mente con uirtute è renouata a me amare, uoglio che tu chiami la caritate qual sia ordenata; arbore sì è prouata Per l’ordene del fructo el qual demostra tutto De omne cosa el ualore.
Tutte le cose qual aggio ordenate, sì so facte con numero & mesura, et al lor fine son tutte ordenate, conseruanse per orden tal ualura, et molto più ancora caritate sì è ordenata nella sua natura. donqua co per calura, Alma, tu sè empazita? for d’orden tu sè uscita, Non t’è freno el feruore.
Christo, che lo core sì m’ài furato, dici che ad amor ordini la mente, come da poi ch’en te sì so mutato de me remasta, fusse conuenente? sì com’è ferro ch’è tutto enfocato, aurora da sole facta relucente, de lor forma perdente Son per altra figura, cusì la mente pura De te è uestita, amore.
Ma, da che perde la sua qualitate, non può la cosa da sé operare; como formata sì ha potestate, opera con fructo sì puote fare; donqua sì è transformata en ueritate en te sol, Christo, che sè dolce amare; a te si può imputare, Non a me quel che faccio; però, se non te piaccio, Tu a te non piaci, amore.
Questo ben sacci che, s’io so empazito, tu, somma sapientia, sì el m’hai facto; et questo fo da che io fui ferito et quando con l’amor feci baracto, che, me spogliando, fui de te uestito, ad noua uita non so co fui tracto; de me tutto desfacto Or so per amor forte, rocte si son le porte Et giaccio teco, amore.
Ad tal fornace perché me menaui, se uoleui ch’io fosse en temperanza? quando sì smesurato me te daui, tolleui da me tutta mesuranza; poi che picciolello me bastaui, tenerte grande non aggio possanza; onde, se c’è fallanza, Amor, tua è, non mia, però che questa uia tu la facesti, amore.
Tu da l’amore non te defendesti, de cielo en terra fece te uenire; amore, ad tal basseza descendesti co homo despecto per lo mondo gire; casa né terra già non ce uolesti, tal pouertate per noi arricchire la uita et nel morire Mostrasti per certanza amor d’esmesuranza Ch’ardea nello core.
Como per lo mondo spesso andaui, l’amor sì te menaua co uenduto; en tutte cose, amor, sempre mostraui de te quasi niente perceputo, che stando nello tempio sì gridaui: ad beuer uenga chi ha sostenuto sete d’amor ha ’uuto, Ché gli sirà donato amore smesurato Qual pasce con dolzore.
Tu, sapientia, non te contenesti che l’amor tuo spesso non uersasse, d’amor non de carne tua nascesti, humanato amor che ne saluasse; per abracciarne en croce tu salesti, et credo che per ciò tu non parlasse, né te amor scusasse Dauanti da Pilato per compier tal mercato En croce de l’amore.
La sapienza, ueggio, se celaua, solo l’amore se potea uedere; et la potenza già non se mostraua, che era la uirtute en dispiacere; grande era quel amor che se uersaua, altro che amor non potendo hauere, né l’uso nel uolere, Amor sempre legando en croce & abracciando L’omo con tanto amore.
Donqua, Iesù, s’io so sì enamorato, enebriato per sì gran dolceza, ché me reprendi s’io uo empazato et omne senno perdo con forteza? poi che l’amore te sì ha legato, quasi priuato d’ogne tua grandeza, co serìa mai forteza En me di contradire, ch’io non uoglia empazire Per abracciarte, amore?
Ché quel amore che me fa empazire, a te par che tollesse sapienza, et quel amor, che sì me fa languire, a te per me sì tolse la potenza; non uoglio ormai né posso sofferire, d’amor so preso, non faccio retenza, daramme la sentenza Che io d’amor sia morto, già non uoglio conforto Se non morire, amore.
Amore, amore che sì m’hai ferito, altro che amore non posso gridare; amore, amore, teco so unito, altro non posso che te abracciare; amore, amore, forte m’ài rapito, lo cor sempre se spande per amare; per te uoglio pasmare, Amor, ch’io teco sia, amor, per cortesìa, Famme morir d’amore.
Amor amor, Iesù, so gionto a porto, amor, amor, Iesù, tu m’ài menato; amor, amor, Iesù, damme conforto, amor, amor, Iesù, sì m’ài enflammato; amor, amor, Iesù, pensa lo porto, fammete star, amor, sempre abracciato, con teco trasformato En uera caritate, en somma ueritate De trasformato amore.
Amor, amore grida tutto l mondo, amor, amore omne cosa clama; amore, amore, tanto sè profondo, chi più t’abraccia sempre più t’abrama; amor, amor, tu sè cerchio rotondo, con tutto l cor chi c’entra sempre t’ama, ché tu sè stame & trama, Chi t’ama per uestire, cusì dolce sentire, Che sempre grida amore.
Amore, amore, tanto tu me fai, amor, amore, nol posso patire; amor, amore, tanto me te dài, amor, amore, ben credo morire; amor, amore, tanto preso m’ài, amor, amor, famme en te transire; amor, dolce languire, Amor mio desioso, amor mio delectoso, Anegame en amore.
Amor, amor, lo cor sì me se speza, amor, amore, tal sento ferita; amor, amor, tramme la tua belleza, amor, amor, per te sì so rapita; amor, amore, uiuere despreza, amor, amor, l’alma teco è unita; amor, tu sè sua uita: Già non se può partire; perché lo fai languire Tanto stregnendo, amore?
Amor, amor, Iesù desideroso, amor, uoglio morire te abracciando; amor, amor, Iesù, dolce mio sposo, amor, amor, la morte t’ademando; amor, amor, Iesù sì delectoso, tu me t’arendi en te transformando, pensa ch’io uo pasmando, Amor, non so ó me sia, Iesù, speranza mia, Abyssame en amore.
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