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St. Teresa of Avila poem: In the Hands of God


I am Yours and born of You,
What do You want of me?
Majestic Sovereign,
Unending wisdom,
Kindness pleasing to my soul;
God sublime, one Being Good,
Behold this one so vile.
Singing of her love to you:
What do You want of me?

Yours, You made me,
Yours, you saved me,
Yours, you called me,
Yours, you awaited me,
Yours, I did not stray.
What do you want of me?

Good Lord, what do you want of me?
What is this wretch to do?
What work is this,
This sinful slave, to do?
Look at me, Sweet Love,
Sweet Love, look at me,
What do you want of me?

In Your hand
I place my heart,
Body, life and soul,
Deep feelings and affections mine,
Spouse – Redeemer sweet,
Myself offered now to you,
What do you want of me?

Give me death, give me life,
Health or sickness,
Honor or shame,
War or swelling peace,
Weakness or full strength,
Yes, to these I say,
What do you want of me?

Give me wealth or want,
Happiness or gloominess,
Heaven or hell,
Sweet life, sun unveiled,
To you I give all.
What do you want of me?

Give me, if You will, prayer;
Or let me know dryness,
And abundance of devotion,
or if not, then barrenness.
In you alone, Sovereign Majesty,
I find my peace,
What do You want of me?

Give me then wisdom,
Or for love, ignorance,
Years of abundance,
or hunger and famine.
Darkness or sunlight,
Move me here or there:
What do You want of me?

If You want me to rest,
I desire it for love;
If to labor,
I will die working:
Sweet Love say
Where, how and when.
What do You want of me?

Calvary or Tabor give me,
Desert or fruitful land;
As Job in suffering
Or John at Your breast;
Barren or fruited vine,
Whatever be Your will:
What do You want of me?

Be I Joseph Chained
Or as Egypt's governor,
David pained
Or exalted high,
Jonas drowned,
Or Jonas freed:
What do You want of me?

Silent or speaking,
Fruitbearing or barren,
My wounds shown by the Law,
Rejoicing in the tender Gospel;
Sorrowing or exulting,
You alone live in me:
What do you want of me?

Yours I am, for You I was born:
Yours I am, for You I was born:

What do You want of me?

St. Teresa of Avila poem I DIE BECAUSE I DO NOT DIE

I live without living in myself,
And in such a way, I hope,
I die because I do not die.

Since I die of love,
Living apart from love,
I live now in the Lord,
Who has desired me for Himself.
He inscribed on my heart
When I gave it to Him:
I die because I do not die…

Ah, how bitter a life
When the Lord is not enjoyed!
While love is sweet,
Long awaiting is not.
O God, take away this burden
Heavier than steel,
I die because I do not die.

Only with that surety
I will die, do I live,
Because in dying
My hope in living is assured.
Death, bringing life,
Do not tarry; I await you,
I die because I do not die.

See how love is strong (Songs 8:6).
Life, do not trouble me.
See how all that remains
Is in losing you to gain.
Come now, sweet death,
Come, dying, swiftly.
I die because I do not die.

That life from above,
That is true life,
Until this life dies,
Life is not enjoyed.
Death, be not aloof;
in dying first, may life be,
I die because I do not die.

Life, what can I give
To my God living in me,
If not to lose you,
Thus to merit him?
In dying I want to reach
Him alone whom I seek:
I die because I do not die.

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