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It is time for me to lift this dress from off the floor, wrap it round my waist, listen, by flaming torch, watch intently, hungry, ardent, await my beloved bridegroom, open the door. My heart's old desires now long since spent, now quiet, humble, chaste, reverent, I yearn for His love only, tremble at His anger only--awake, keeping vigil, He'll find me in deep need. I make no deal for His endless kindness gentle, noble words offering me life eternal: you see, He never pointed a martyred hand, said: See the blind woman who, illumined, could not see her true Sun. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V X, 170 (deeply erotic, concrete) and RII:396-397. See also B S1:8:89 (exhausted tone of quietude as after conversion experience). Translation: Thérault 195-6. Allusion to Matt 25:1-13. Key |
