“No me mueve mi Dios, para quererte”

Christ Crucified

I am not moved to love Thee, 0 my Lord,

    By any longing for Thy Promised Land;

    Nor by the fear of hell am I unmanned

To cease from my transgressing deed or word.

Tis Thou Thyself dost move me,—Thy blood poured

    Upon the cross from nailed foot and hand;

    And all the wounds that did Thy body brand;

And all Thy shame and bitter death's award.

Yea, to Thy heart am I so deeply stirred

    That I would love Thee were no heaven on high,—

That I would fear, were hell a tale absurd!

Such my desire, all questioning grows vain;

    Though hope deny me hope I still should sigh,

And as ray love is now, it should remain.

Catalan poem  Soneto a Cristo crucificado author anonymous, trans Thomas Walsh