You hide your face,
You bought with precious crimson
Flowing from merciful side,
You costly stone of azure,
Cold and distant as the stars.
Where do you lead me?
You specks of luminance
Circling in ebony folds of night.
Where the stars are it is always night.
She rises for prayer each midnight hour
But instead beholds only your face,
You who were hidden before
Now appear unwanted.
It was the spirit who broods over,
Guards her soul
which awakened her for the prayer
That pours forth
From the inner chamber of her heart,
As if some Guest were making
Some speech of thanksgiving into the night.