Flower flower Bitterness,
how stand you now so full
of ripe gold honey
for all your bitter pall.
How sag you now with gifts,
the meadows' almond flower
the modest, gently swathed,
could surely never bear,
Torment and blessing -
each has his own.
I do not know life's measure,
but know that you became mine.
Your cup was like fire.
Your drink was like gall.
You offered seven sorrows,
and I drank them all.
Flower flower Bitterness,
how rich at last you grow
in heat-golden honey
resembling sunlight's flow.
Here,sated with sweetness,
I stand in your clear gift's rays.
I will rejoice with Adam.
With Job I will praise.
For more information, please visit the website of David McDuff and his own pages with the translations.