“Dark Night of the Soul” – Translation by Mirabai Starr

On a dark night,
Inflamed by love-longing–
O exquisite risk!–
Undetected I slipped away.
My house, at last, grown still.

Secure in the darkness,
I climbed the secret ladder in disguise–
O exquisite risk!–
Concealed by the darkness.
My house, at last, grown still.

That sweet night: a secret.
Nobody saw me;
I did not see a thing.
No other light, no other guide
Than the one burning in my heart.

This light led the way
More clearly than the risen sun
To where he was waiting for me
–The one I knew so intimately–
In a place where no one could find us.

O night, that guided me!
O night, sweeter than sunrise!
O night, that joined lover with Beloved!
Lover transformed in Beloved!

Upon my blossoming breast,
Which I cultivate just for him,
He drifted into sleep,
And while I caressed him,
A cedar breeze touched the air.

Wind blew down from the tower,
Parting the locks of his hair.
With his gentle hand
He wounded my neck
And all my senses were suspended.

I lost myself. Forgot myself.
I lay my face against the Beloved’s face.
Everything fell away and I left myself behind,
Abandoning my cares
Among the lilies, forgotten.

-St. John of the Cross, translated by Mirabai Starr

Note: you can see the Peers translation below.

The Birth of the Poem

St. John of the Cross wrote “Dark Night of the Soul” after his own experience of inhalation.

Together with St. Teresa of Avila, he was working to reform the Carmelite order. Both had been disappointed with the overly political, money-centered way the order was run. Teresa had created the “Barefoot Carmelites,” (Carmelitas Descalzos) to return the Carmelite order to its roots in simplicity and devotion to the divine. She later recruited John as her accomplice.

Those in power did not take kindly to the reform movement. At the age of 35, John was captured by fellow Carmelites who were against the reform and imprisoned in a tiny closet that used to be a latrine.

He was tortured, starved, beaten daily in the dining hall while the monks were eating dinner, and constantly insulted. While they attempted to convince him to denounce the reform, he refused.

While imprisoned, John wrote ecstatic love poems to God. Since he had no way of writing them down, he memorized them.

Eventually, John tied scraps of cloth together and used these to climb through the tiny window at the top of his cell, then lower himself to the ground. He escaped, and found refuge in a convent of Teresa’s nuns. Then, something miraculous happened.

After his miraculous escape from prison, John fell into a state of profound ecstasy. He had traveled through perfect darkness and emerged to find the living God waiting for him in the depths of his own heart. The communion between lover and Beloved yielded a permanent transformation in the God-intoxicated man. At the height of this mystical state, John composed the poem “Songs of the Soul: One Dark Night.” Later, he described it as “an outpouring of love for God,” which he was powerless to resist. Like the Songs of Solomon, John’s verses sang of the passion of longing and the ecstasy of secret union with the Beloved–a union that could only take place after the soul had made her escape from the confines of her old house through the wilderness of the darkest night.

Mirabai Starr in her introduction to “Dark Night of the Soul by St John of the Cross, New Translation and introduction by Mirabai Starr“

Translations

My favorite translation of Dark Night of the Soul is the one above by Mirabai Starr (the phrase “exquisite risk” pierces my heart). However, I have included the older and more well-known translation be E. Allison Peers as well, so that you can see the differences and similarities between them. I’ve also included the original Spanish.

“Dark Night of the Soul” Translated by E. Allison Peers

On a dark night,
Kindled in love with yearnings
–oh, happy chance!
I went forth without being observed,
My house being now at rest.

In darkness and secure,
By the secret ladder, disguised
–oh, happy chance!
In darkness and in concealment,
My house being now at rest.

In the happy night,
In secret, when none saw me,
Nor I beheld aught,
Without light or guide,
save that which burned in my heart

This light guided me,
Oh night more lovely than the dawn,
Oh night that joined Beloved with lover,
Lover transformed in the Beloved!

Upon my flowery breast,
Kept wholly for himself alone,
There he stayed sleeping, and I caressed him,
And the fanning of the cedars made a breeze.

The breeze blew from the turret
As I parted his locks;
With his gentle hand he wounded my neck
And caused all my senses to be suspended.

I remained, lost in oblivion;
My face I reclined on the Beloved.
All ceased and I abandoned myself,
Leaving my cares forgotten among the lilies.

-St. John of the Cross, translated by E. Allison Peers

“La Noche Oscura Del Alma” – Original Spanish Version by San Juan De La Cruz

En una noche oscura,
con ansias, en amores inflamada,
¡oh dichosa ventura!,
salí sin ser notada,
estando ya mi casa sosegada;

a escuras y segura
por la secreta escala, disfrazada,
¡oh dichosa ventura!,
a escuras y encelada,
estando ya mi casa sosegada;

en la noche dichosa,
en secreto, que naide me veía
ni yo miraba cisa,
sin otra luz y guía
sino la que en el corazón ardía.

Aquesta me guiaba
más cierto que la luz del mediodía
adonde me esperaba
quien yo bien me sabía
en parte donde naide parecía.

¡Oh noche que guiaste!
¡oh noche amable más que la alborada!;
¡oh noche que juntaste,
Amado con amada,
amada en el Amado transformada!

En mi pecho florido,
que entero para él solo se guardaba,
allí quedó dormido,
y yo le regalaba,
y el ventalle de cedros aire daba.

El aire del almena,
cuando yo sus cabellos esparcía,
con su mano serena
en mi cuello hería,
y todos mis sentidos suspendía.

Quedéme y olvidéme,
el rostro recliné sobre el Amado;
cesó todo y dejéme,
dejando mi cuidado
entre las azucenas olvidado.