XIV - THE GOOD SHEPHERD

Shepherd, who with loving whistled notes
awakened me from the profoundest sleep;
you, who made a crook out of that wood
and now extend your powerful arms there:

turn your eyes with mercy on my faith,
for I confess that you're my love and lord
and pledge to you my word that I'll pursue
your gentle whistles and your feet so fair.

Listen, Shepherd, since you die for love,
don't take fright at the rigor of my sins,
since you're a friend of those crushed by defeat.

Wait, then, and listen closely to my woes—
But surely I need not tell you to wait
since wait you must while nails restrain your feet.