Of Falconry, by St. John of the Cross

Upon a quest of love,

hope sturdy and steadfast,

I flew so high, so high,

I caught the prey at last.

In this divine affair,

to triumph--if I might--

I had to soar so high

I vanished out of sight.

Yet in the same ascent

my wings were failing fast--

but love arose so high

I caught the prey at last.

Just when this flight of mine

had reached its highest mark,

my eyes were dazzled so

I conquered in the dark.

I gave a blind black surge

for love--myself surpassed!

and went so high, so high

I caught the prey at last.

The higher up I went

there, in this dizzy game,

the lower I appeared,

more humble, weak, and lame.

I cried, But none can win!

and sinking fast oh fast

yet went so high, so high,

I caught the prey at last.

Then--marvelous!--I made

a thousand flights in one,

for hope of heaven will see

all it can wish, be done.

I hoped for this alone;

I hoped; was not downcast.

And went so high, so high,

I caught the prey at last.

From “The Poems of St. John of the Cross,” third edition, original Spanish texts and English translations by John Frederick Nims. (The University of Chicago Press: $11.95; 151 pp.) Copyright 1995 Reprinted by permission.