Oh, living flame of love,
that in the depths of my soul
is the cause of my torment,
is the thorn that both wounds
and heals.
You gently increase my torment,
a bold touch has ignited me.
Ah, end this already, if you wish,
for I wait for when you will tear apart
the veil that separates us.
Oh, sweet burning to dizziness,
oh, morning that was given,
oh, hand that turns
death into life, pays off debts,
makes night sweeter than morning.
How lovingly you dwell,
how you awaken in my womb!
With your breath, you gently warm
my weakness, to which you will give your glory.
My love after your suffering...
(free translation of Jan's poem Living Flame of Love)
