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Blest lady in whose face shines with the light of eternal love. Holy darts, a rainbow supernal, a torch of ashless fire led you to cross the threshold to that bright countryside. Sweet and gentle was the noose that took you and the snare that set you free. For you the mortal weight, the sin, that bore down on your heart was a blessed burden, happy thing, a wound whose scar cured your soul-- your tears cleansed your scabs, cleared your mind, left you sound. Blessed ravaging flames that preclude another fire. She lay down at His feet, His strong hand drew her up--the true lover who simply accepts her heart welcomes her |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V III:389. See also B S2:25:189; MSs L, COR, RA, V1, Ve2. A third in a series to Mary Magdelene; VC identifies: she remembers how she was not welcomed by Pescara. Key |
