...
That thou in loosing me, shall win much glory,
And I by this will be a gainer too,
For bending all my loving thoughts on thee,
The injuries that to myself I do,
Doing thee vantage, double vantage me.
It is at last any morning
not answering to a name
I wake before there is light
hearing once more that same
music without repetition
or beginning playing
away into myself
in silence like a wave
a unison in its own
key that I seem
to have heard before I
was listening but by the time
I hear it now it is gone
as when on a morning
alive with sunlight
almost at the year's end
a feathered breath a bird
flies in at the open window
then vanishes leaving me
believing what I do not see
Allora il SIGNORE dal seno della tempesta disse:
Chi e costui che oscura i miei disegni con parole prive di senno? Cingiti i fianchi come un prode; io ti faro delle domande e tu insegnami!
Dov' eri tu quando io fondavo la terra? Dillo, se hai tanta intelligenza.
Chi ne fisso le dimensioni, se lo sai, o chi tiro sopra di essa la corda da misurare?
Su che furono poggiate le sue fondamenta, o chi ne pose la pietra angolare, quando le stelle del mattino cantavano tutte assieme e tutti i figli di Dio alzavano grida di gioia?
. . .
Lo sai di sicuro! Perche tu eri allora gia nato e il numero dei tuoi giorni e grande!
Where could I go from Your Spirit?
Or where can I flee from Your presence?
If I ascend into heaven, You are there.
If I make my bed in hell, behold You are there.
If I take the wings of the morning, and
dwell in the uttermost parts the sea...
even there
Your hand shall lead me
Your right hand shall hold me...
