O, woods and thickets,
planted by the hand of the Beloved!
O, green meadow
and adorned with flowers!
Tell me if he passed by you.
Thousands of charms he scattered,
hurried through these groves
and beautified them with his gaze
and by his mere presence
clothed them with his beauty.
Ah, who can heal me?
Truly surrender to me;
and do not send me
a messenger today
who is unable to tell me,
what I long for.
(John of the Cross, Spiritual Song,
stanzas 4–6; 1577/78)
