Proud of my broken heart,
since thou did’st break it,
Proud of the pain
I did not feel till thee,
Proud of my night,
since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion,
my humility.
Thou can’st not boast, like Jesus,
drunken without companion
Was the strong cup of anguish
brewed for the Nazarene
Thou can’st not pierce tradition
with the peerless puncture,
See! I usurped thy crucifix
to honor mine!