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              TO CHRIST

I am not moved to love you, O my Lord,
By promises of Heaven's recompense,
Nor moved to cease my causing you offence
By ceaseless dread of Hell's condign reward.

You move me, Lord; I'm moved to see your breath
Hammered to a cross, and ruthlessly derided;
I'm moved to see your body badly grided,
The shame and scorn you shoulder; and your death.

I'm moved, well, by your love, to love you so,
That I should love you, shone no light above;
And I should fear you, stormed no flames below.

You do not have to give to have my love;
Had I no move to hope as I now do,
As I now love, so would I still love you.

Anonymous, attributed to Santa Teresa
Translation by Michael Haldane

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Attributed to Santa Teresa
audio Voz: Ditirambo -
ruso Перевод А. Гелескула
inglés Translation by Thomas Walsh
inglés Translation by Alix Ingber
inglés Translation by Art Eschenlauer
inglés Translation by Stacy Shoop
inglés Translation by Hugh Seay
español Original version