Happy Birthday St. John of the Cross! Born on June 24, 1542, he would have been 467 years old today!

A mystic, he wrote ecstatic poems and got in trouble with the authorities for translating the Song of Songs into vernacular Spanish (a little bit of a bad boy, right?!). He and his dear friend, St. Teresa of Avila, were involved with the foundation of a reformed (and barefoot) order of Carmelites.

Venerated by Roman Catholics, Anglicans, and Lutherans, his poetry is thought to be among the most beautiful and inspirational ever written. Explore different translations of his work and marvel at the range of interpretation in this very metaphoric work. Savor this adaptation of his words by Loreena McKennitt. And don't forget to take a moment to say "Feliz cumpleanos, San Juan de la Cruz!"

The Dark Night of the Soul
By St. John of the Cross (adapted by Loreena McKennitt and set to her music, The Mask and Mirror, 1994)

Upon a darkened night
the flame of love was burning in my breast
And by a lantern bright
I fled my house while all in quiet rest.

Shrouded by the night
and by the secret stair I quickly fled
The veil concealed my eyes
while all within lay quiet as the dead.

Oh night thou was my guide
Oh night more loving than the rising sun
Oh night that joined the lover
to the beloved one
transforming each of them into the other.

Upon that misty night
in secrecy, beyond such mortal sight
Without a guide or light
than that which burned so deeply in my heart.

That fire t'was led me on
and shone more bright than of the midday sun
To where he waited still
it was a place where no one else could come.

Oh night thou was my guide
Oh night more loving than the rising sun
Oh night that joined the lover
to the beloved one
transforming each of them into the other.

Within my pounding heart
which kept itself entirely for him
He fell into his sleep
beneath the cedars all my love I gave
And by the fortress walls
the wind would brush his hair against his brow
And with its smoothest hand
caressed my every sense it would allow.

Oh night thou was my guide
Oh night more loving than the rising sun
Oh night that joined the lover to the beloved one
transforming each of them into the other.

I lost myself to him
and laid my face upon my lover's breast
And care and grief grew dim
as in the morning's mist became the light
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair.