O love’s living flame,

so softly do you sear

the deepest center of my soul!

Now that you no longer shy away,

end this game, I beg of you, today:

Rip open the veil separating us

in this sweet rendezvous!

O tender burn!

O burning boon!

O gentle hand!

O delicate caress,

that infers eternal life

and renders all debts paid!

Killing,

death into life you have made!

O beacons of fire,

in whose splendor

the blind, dark

deep grottoes

of the senses,

with strange and stately art,

warm and enlighten,

and win my love!

How tenderly is your memory

cherished in my breast,

where you alone reside and in secret rest:

Here I taste in your perfumed breath

goodness a-flood with glory—

How gracefully you’ve won my love!