Out of profound love, and through a gentle
slow transformation, our Father and
those in Paradise in countless ways are
ever loosening the knots strangling us,
to free us to address our hearts to God.
So changed, so roused, I turn eagerly, with
an aching longing, bind myself through ties
that cannot be undone, fastened with nails
of iron, until this bitter way of
death seems the sweetest, most honorable gift
life offers. Faith is born; from faith, light; from
light, hope; from hope, life's vivid flame. Passion
yields, tired rebel, flies to Paradise
at long last shuns, careless of mortal cares.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
From V CLXXXI:341. See also B S1:95:132; R XXV:447-8. MSs: L, V2, CASI, RA, Ve2; Valgrisi 96. Key