{
  "meta": {
    "schema_version": "1.1",
    "endpoint": "/api/sources/beguine-mystics/hadewijch-strofische-gedichten/vol-1-02-ii.json"
  },
  "work": {
    "slug": "hadewijch-strofische-gedichten",
    "name": "The Strofische Gedichten (Stanzaic Poems) of Hadewijch"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "beguine-mystics",
      "name": "Beguine Mystics",
      "url": "/sources/beguine-mystics/"
    }
  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 3,
    "slug": "vol-1-02-ii",
    "title": "II",
    "of": 14,
    "words": 638,
    "text": "## II\n\nThis year, in a short time,<br>\nthe sap from the roots shall strike upward;<br>\nthereby shall, far and wide,<br>\nfield and herb take on their leaf.<br>\nOf this we have sure expectation:<br>\nthe birds become glad.<br>\nHe who goes in Love to strife,<br>\nhe shall soon overcome,<br>\nif only he does not turn aside.\n\nWho does not spare for high Love,<br>\nhe is wise in all his works;<br>\nLove is *Maiden and Queen*<br>\nwho makes many of high spirit,<br>\nso that he, above all her good,<br>\nputs to it his strength and senses;<br>\nwhere Love knows the work,<br>\nhow she shall reward him at first<br>\n— he is the one Love overcomes.<sup>3</sup>\n\nBut therefore Love is Lady and Maiden:<br>\nthat she is the mother of all virtue.<br>\nShe is bearing, and bears alone the troth<br>\nthrough which all you who love may be empowered.<br>\nShe alone has gladdened us,<br>\nand bettered all sorrow.<br>\nI pray that she behold us<br>\nand make the youth to grow,<br>\nthat she fulfill all Love's troth to us.\n\nHow sweet is Love in her nature,<br>\nthat she overcomes every other power.<br>\nHe who loves suffers heavy hazard<br>\nbefore he knows in Love's manners<br>\nthat he is by her fully loved;<br>\nso he tastes more bitter and sour;<br>\nhe may not endure an hour<br>\nbefore Love binds him wholly into Love<br>\nand into the fire of fruition.\n\nWhoever yearns for the *un-fruition* in Love,<br>\nhe shall overcome all his trouble.<br>\nHe cannot die whom Love has reached<br>\n— her name, *Amor*, is from death;<br>\nhe who did what Love bade<br>\nand failed not therein,<br>\nshe is the bliss of every matter:<br>\n**Love is the living bread,<br>\nand above all pleasures in tasting.**\n\nMy new songs<br>\nare altogether brought to great lamenting<br>\n— I who have sung long<br>\nand of Love's beautiful heart-might.<br>\nThough I have wrought too little,<br>\nit does me sore woe and anguish<br>\nthat I do not encompass<br>\nthe unconquered might<br>\nin the fruition of Love's constraint.\n\nI may well of the fine Love<br>\nhenceforth be silent my days more.<br>\nWhere I was wont to be glad,<br>\nin singing and in springing in the time before,<br>\nwhen her rich teaching<br>\nmade joy appear to me,<br>\nthere I now endure pain<br>\nand from-the-heart suffer,<br>\nof which I age and waste.\n\nThus has Love's pain wasted me,<br>\nthat I am for nothing more good —<br>\nshe who first led me to her school,<br>\nwhere I suckled her wise wonders,<br>\nand she since drew that away<br>\nand from me much has hidden.<br>\nYet would I gladly wander still,<br>\nfor Love did not lie<br>\nin what she commanded me.\n\nWould Love give me new days<br>\nwho am to her become so old —<br>\nthen would I be silent of my lament<br>\nthat now is so manifold;<br>\nand let her stout-free life<br>\nhave-her-way at what is now to me a waging.<br>\nHow gladly would I see<br>\nthat Love work her free might<br>\nupon me as it pleased her.\n\nThough it grieves me so very much<br>\nthat I know myself a Love-miserable woman,<br>\nLove does all her friends honor<br>\nwho with troth are ready to her,<br>\nso that they in joy and grief<br>\nunderstand her rich teaching;<br>\nthose who do this work without turning,<br>\nand Love wholly into Love embrace —<br>\nthey remain in her rich domain.\n\nAs the fair rose to us<br>\ncomes out of the thorn with the dew,<br>\nso shall he who loves, through every evil,<br>\nwith trust withstand her storms.<br>\nHe shall, freely, without a doubt,<br>\ngrow through all damage.<br>\nThe faint-of-heart<br>\nhas done his part too soon,<br>\nwhere the *amorose* are free.\n\nWho would embrace Love<br>\nmust shun all the loose-of-tongue,<br>\nthough now her speech be sweet<br>\n— one shall soon know<br>\nthat false is her show.\n\n---\n\n## Song III",
    "project_translation": false,
    "text_trust": "verbatim",
    "quote_safe": true,
    "license": null,
    "methodology_url": null
  }
}