O Lover of gentle nature,
You are to be much praised:
Generous, courteous without measure,
Sum of all goodness,
You do not will to do anything,
Lover, without my will.
And thus I must not hold silence
About your beauty and goodness.
Powerful you are for my sake, and wise;
Such I cannot hide.
Ah, but to whom will I say it?
Seraphim know not how to speak of it.
Lover, you have grasped me in your love,
To give me your great treasure,
That is, the gift of your own self,
Which is divine goodness.
Heart cannot express this,
But willing pure nothingness purifies the heart,
Which makes me climb so high,
By union in concordance,
Which I ought never to reveal.