Liturgy of Light and Night

O candle, daughter of fire and sorrow,
Who flared in the night’s silence like a betrayal –
With your light, you rend the womb of darkness,
Though you know: fading is your only solace.

You know, beloved – the insatiable gloom,
It drinks your radiance like blood from a chalice,
And every tear of your wax is a praise
To that maw of the abyss, waiting without end.

O miracle of love! – to burn, dying, to live,
To be the victim and the priest on one’s own flame;
For darkness shines only for those who suffer,
And light knows itself in the depths of gloom.

So melt, O candle, like a prayer without words:
Let the night consume you – yet love shall not fade,
For your death is the truth of all celestial bodies:
To burn to the edge, only to become night once more.