CANCIONES DEL ALMA, que se goza de auer llegado al alto estado de la perfeccion, que es la union con Dios por el camino de la negacion espiritual.	THE DARK NIGHT - Songs of the soul, which rejoices at having reached that lofty state of perfection: union with God by the way of spiritual negation.
San Juan de la Cruz	trans. A.S.Kline
En una noche obscura Con ansias en amores inflamada o dichosa uentura sali sin ser notada Estando ya mi casa sosegada A escuras, y segura Por la secreta escala disfraçada o dichosa uentura a escuras y ençelada Estando ya mi casa sosegada En la noche dichosa En secreto que nadie me ueya. Ni yo miraua cosa Sin otra luz y guia Sino la que en el coraçon ardia Aquesta me guiaua Mas cierto que la luz del medio dia adonde me esperaua quien yo bien me sabia En parte donde nadie parecia O noche que guiaste o noche amable mas que et aluorada o noche que juntaste amado con amada Amada en el amado transformada En mi pecho florido que entero para el solo se guardaua alli quedó dormido, y yo le regalaua y el ventalle de cedros ayre daua El ayre de la almena quando yo sus cabellos esparzia con su mano serena en mi cuello heria y todos mis sentidos suspendia. Quedeme y oluideme El rostro recline sobre et amado cesò todo, y dexeme dexando mi cuidado Entre las açucenas oluidado.	On a darkened night on fire with all love’s longing - O joyful flight! - I left, none noticing, my house in silence resting. Secure, devoid of light, by secret stairway, stealing - O joyful flight! - in darkness self-concealing, my house in silence resting. In the joy of night, in secret so none saw me, no object in my sight no other light to guide me, but what burned here inside me. Which solely was my guide, more surely than noon-glow, to where he does abide, one whom I deeply know, a place where none did show. O night, my guide! O night, far kinder than the dawn! O night that tied the lover to the loved, the loved in the lover there transformed! On my flowering breast, that breast I kept for him alone, there he took his rest while I regaled my own, in lulling breezes from the cedars blown. The breeze, from off the tower, as I sieved through its windings with calm hands that hour, my neck in wounding left all my senses hanging. Self abandoned, self forgot, my face inclined to the beloved one: all ceased, and I was not, my cares now left behind, and gone: there among the lilies all forgotten.

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Transl. Copyright © A.S.Kline 2008

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