Cántico espiritual
The Agony of Absence
The soul laments the hiddenness of the Beloved and begins a desperate search through the natural world.
Where have you hidden, my Beloved, and left me with my sighing? Like a deer you fled, having wounded me; I went out calling for you, but you were gone. Shepherds, you out there in the meadows by the fold: if you happen to see the one I love most, tell him that I am suffering, I am pining away, and I am dying. Searching for my loves, I’ll wander through those mountains and riverbanks; I won’t pick the flowers, nor will I fear the wild beasts, and I’ll pass through the strongholds and borders. Oh, forests and thickets, planted by the hand of the Beloved! Oh, meadow of greens, adorned with flowers! Decide if He has passed by you.
The Wound of Love
The soul reflects on the beauty left behind by the Beloved and pleads for healing from the wounds of divine love.
Pouring out a thousand graces, He hurried through these thickets, and as He looked upon them, He left them clothed in beauty with just His presence. Oh, who can heal me? You've just given yourself to me, so please don't send me any more messengers today, because they don't know how to tell me what I want. And all who wander from you bring me a thousand graces, and all the more they wound me, and let me die with a certain something that remains, stammering. But how do you keep going, oh life! You’re not living where you live, and you’re causing yourself to die with the arrows you receive from what you conceive of the Beloved within you. Why, then, have you wounded this heart, and not healed it? And since you've stolen from me, why did you leave it like this, and not take back what you stole? Extinguish my anger, for no one can do it but you. Let my eyes see you, because you are their light, and I want to keep them only for you. Oh, crystal-clear fountain, if in those silvered faces you suddenly formed the desired eyes that I have drawn in my innermost being! Move away, Beloved, for I'm taking flight! Return, dove, for the wounded deer appears in the clearing, catching the fresh air of your flight.
The Nuptial Union
The soul describes the mystical union with the Beloved in the inner cellar, where all earthly attachments are surrendered.
My Beloved, the mountains, the solitary wooded valleys, the strange islands, the resounding rivers, the whisper of the loving breezes, The calm night, in the light of dawn, the quiet music, the resonant solitude, the meal that refreshes and enchants. Our flowery bed, tangled with lions' dens, is spread with purple, built on peace, and crowned with a thousand golden shields. Behind your footsteps, the young women follow along the path, at the touch of a spark, at the rich wine, the outpourings of divine balm. In the inner cellar, I drank from my Beloved, and when I stepped out into this meadow, I knew nothing; I lost the flock I used to follow. There, He gave me His heart; there, He taught me a very sweet knowledge; and I gave myself to Him, holding nothing back; there, I promised to be His Bride. My soul is devoted, along with all my resources, to His service; I don't hold onto any possessions anymore, nor do I have any other occupation, for now loving Him alone is my work. Well, if today in the field nothing more is seen or found, you'll say that I've gotten lost; for, wandering in love, I became lost, and I was won.
The Mutual Exchange
The Beloved and the soul exchange vows and beauty, solidifying their covenant under the apple tree.
From flowers and emeralds, in the fresh chosen mornings, we will make the garlands that bloom in your love and are woven into a strand of my hair. Only in that hair, which you considered flying in my neck, did you gaze upon me, and in it, you became captive; and in one of my eyes, you were wounded. When you looked at me, your eyes impressed your grace upon me; that’s why I was captivated by you, and for that, my own deserved to adore what they saw in you. Don't reject me; even if you found me dark-complexioned, you can certainly look at me now that you've seen me, since you've left grace and beauty in me. Catch the foxes for us, for our vineyard is already in bloom; so much so that we make a bundle of roses, and let no one appear in the hillside. Stop, dead breeze; come, south wind, for you remember the loves. Breathe through my garden, and let its fragrances flow, and the Beloved will graze among the flowers. The bride has entered the delightful garden she longed for, and she rests in its sweetness, her neck reclined on the beloved's sweet arms. Under the apple tree, there you were betrothed to me. There I gave you my hand, and you were restored where your mother was violated.
The Final Ascent
The soul invites the Beloved to retreat into the deepest solitude of the spirit, where they may enjoy their union undisturbed.
To the light birds, lions, deer, leaping gazelles, mountains, valleys, rivers, waters, breezes, passions, and fears of the watchful nights, With pleasant lyres and the song of serene voices, I urge you to stop your anger and don't touch the wall, so the bride may sleep more securely. Oh, nymphs of Judea! , as the amber perfumes the flowers and rose bushes, let it dwell in the outskirts, and do not wish to touch our thresholds. Hide, Carillo, and gaze with your light upon the mountains, and don't speak of it; instead, look at the company of the one who travels through strange islands. The white dove has turned to the ark with the branch, and now the turtledove has found its desired companion on the green banks. In solitude I lived, and in solitude I have already made my nest; in solitude the guide leads my beloved, also in solitude, wounded by love. Let’s go, Beloved, and let’s go see your beauty on the mountain or the hill where pure water flows; let’s enter deeper into the thicket. Then we'll climb to the heights, to the hidden caves in the rock, which are well concealed, and there we'll enter and taste the juice of pomegranates. There you would show me what my soul longed for, and then you would give me there, you, my life, what you gave me the other day: The breath of the air, the song of the sweet nightingale, the grove and its grace, in the serene night, with a flame that consumes but doesn't bring sorrow. No one was watching him, and Aminadab didn’t seem to be either, while the enclosure grew quiet and the cavalry descended within sight of the waters.
Read the original Latin
¿Adónde te escondiste, Amado, y me dejaste con gemido? Como el ciervo huiste, habiéndome herido; salí tras ti clamando, y eras ido.
Pastores, los que fuerdes allá por las majadas al otero: si por ventura vierdes aquel que yo más quiero, decidle que adolezco, peno y muero.
Buscando mis amores, iré por esos montes y riberas; ni cogeré las flores, ni temeré las fieras, y pasaré los fuertes y fronteras.
¡Oh bosques y espesuras, plantadas por la mano del Amado! ¡Oh prado de verduras, de flores esmaltado! Decid si por vosotros ha pasado.
Mil gracias derramando pasó por estos sotos con presura, e, yéndolos mirando, con sola su figura vestidos los dejó de hermosura.
¡Ay, quién podrá sanarme! Acaba de entregarte ya de vero: no quieras enviarme de hoy más ya mensajero, que no saben decirme lo que quiero.
Y todos cuantos vagan de ti me van mil gracias refiriendo, y todos más me llagan, y déjame muriendo un no sé qué que quedan balbuciendo.
Mas ¿cómo perseveras, ¡oh vida! , no viviendo donde vives, y haciendo porque mueras las flechas que recibes de lo que del Amado en ti concibes?
¿Por qué, pues has llagado aqueste corazón, no le sanaste? Y, pues me le has robado, ¿por qué así le dejaste, y no tomas el robo que robaste?
Apaga mis enojos, pues que ninguno basta a deshacellos, y véante mis ojos, pues eres lumbre dellos, y sólo para ti quiero tenellos.
¡Oh cristalina fuente, si en esos tus semblantes plateados formases de repente los ojos deseados que tengo en mis entrañas dibujados!
¡Apártalos, Amado, que voy de vuelo! Vuélvete, paloma, que el ciervo vulnerado por el otero asoma al aire de tu vuelo, y fresco toma.
Mi Amado, las montañas, los valles solitarios nemorosos, las ínsulas extrañas, los ríos sonorosos, el silbo de los aires amorosos,
la noche sosegada en par de los levantes del aurora, la música callada, la soledad sonora, la cena que recrea y enamora.
Nuestro lecho florido, de cuevas de leones enlazado, en púrpura tendido, de paz edificado, de mil escudos de oro coronado.
A zaga de tu huella las jóvenes discurren al camino, al toque de centella, al adobado vino, emisiones de bálsamo divino.
En la interior bodega de mi Amado bebí, y cuando salía por toda aquesta vega, ya cosa no sabía; y el ganado perdí que antes seguía.
Allí me dio su pecho, allí me enseñó ciencia muy sabrosa; y yo le di de hecho a mí, sin dejar cosa: allí le prometí de ser su Esposa.
Mi alma se ha empleado, y todo mi caudal en su servicio; ya no guardo ganado, ni ya tengo otro oficio, que ya sólo en amar es mi ejercicio.
Pues ya si en el ejido de hoy más no fuere vista ni hallada, diréis que me he perdido; que, andando enamorada, me hice perdidiza, y fui ganada.
De flores y esmeraldas, en las frescas mañanas escogidas, haremos las guirnaldas en tu amor florecidas y en un cabello mío entretejidas.
En solo aquel cabello que en mi cuello volar consideraste, mirástele en mi cuello, y en él preso quedaste, y en uno de mis ojos te llagaste.
Cuando tú me mirabas su gracia en mí tus ojos imprimían; por eso me adamabas, y en eso merecían los míos adorar lo que en ti vían.
No quieras despreciarme, que, si color moreno en mi hallaste, ya bien puedes mirarme después que me miraste, que gracia y hermosura en mi dejaste.
Cogednos las raposas, que está ya florecida nuestra viña, en tanto que de rosas hacemos una piña, y no parezca nadie en la montiña.
Detente, cierzo muerto; ven, austro, que recuerdas los amores, aspira por mi huerto, y corran sus olores, y pacerá el Amado entre las flores.
Entrado se ha la esposa en el ameno huerto deseado, y a su sabor reposa, el cuello reclinado sobre los dulces brazos del Amado.
Debajo del manzano, allí conmigo fuiste desposada. allí te di la mano, y fuiste reparada donde tu madre fuera violada.
A las aves ligeras, leones, ciervos, gamos saltadores, montes, valles, riberas, aguas, aires, ardores y miedos de las noches veladores,
Por las amenas liras y canto de serenas os conjuro que cesen vuestras iras, y no toquéis al muro, porque la esposa duerma más seguro.
Oh ninfas de Judea! , en tanto que en las flores y rosales el ámbar perfumea, morá en los arrabales, y no queráis tocar nuestros umbrales
Escóndete, Carillo, y mira con tu haz a las montañas, y no quieras decillo; mas mira las compañas de la que va por ínsulas extrañas
La blanca palomita al arca con el ramo se ha tornado y ya la tortolica al socio deseado en las riberas verdes ha hallado.
En soledad vivía, y en soledad ha puesto ya su nido, y en soledad la guía a solas su querido, también en soledad de amor herido.
Gocémonos, Amado, y vámonos a ver en tu hermosura al monte ó al collado do mana el agua pura; entremos más adentro en la espesura.
Y luego a las subidas cavernas de la piedra nos iremos, que están bien escondidas, y allí nos entraremos, y el mosto de granadas gustaremos
Allí me mostrarías aquello que mi alma pretendía, y luego me darías allí, tú, vida mía, aquello que me diste el otro día:
El aspirar del aire, el canto de la dulce Filomena, el soto y su donaire, en la noche serena, con llama que consume y no da pena
Que nadie lo miraba, Aminadab tampoco parecía, y el cerco sosegaba, y la caballería a vista de las aguas descendía.
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