Bitter love, a violet with its crown
of thorns in a thicket of spiky passions,
spirit of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you come
to conquer my soul? What via dolorosa brought you?
Why did you pour your tender fire
so quickly, over my life’s cool leaves?
Who pointed the way to you? What flower,
what rock, what smoke showed you where I live?
Because the earth shook—it did—, that awful night;
then dawn filled all the goblets with its wine;
the heavenly sun declared itself;
while inside, a ferocious love wound around
and around me— till it pierced me with its thorns, it sword,
slashing a seared road through my heart.