Wherein the soul sings of the happy chance which it had in passing through the dark night of faith, in detachment and purgation of itself, to union with the Beloved.

1

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

2

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

3

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.

4

This light guided me
More surely than the light of noonday,
To the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me—
A place where none appeared.

5

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

6

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.

7

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.

8

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.