rocky souls on the way, where
supreme delight
is but beautifying sleep —,
such is my love
that if you are stricken with mortal pain
because of me,
it is a thousand times better than
had you never met me —
if with unclean hands
I steal your sacred crown,
you shall be a thousand times more pure,
when I have left —
and if for my joy
you are killed in the meanest way,
by my hand your lips shall reach,
awakening, the brow of The Most High —
listen, every lonesome rocky soul:
not one minute anyone of you are left —!
such is my love for each of you —