St. John of The Cross / Dark Night of the Soul

St. John of the Cross, born in Fontiveros (Ávila, near Madrid), in 1542, is perhaps, along with Quevedo, the best Spanish poet of the Golden Age (probably also of all ages), the poet who achieved the most sophisticated and elevated heights in the Spanish verse. St John of the Cross has been considered throughout the centuries the ultimate mystical and religious (catholic) poet, and this has perhaps led some to refrain from reading and enjoying his poetry. One of his most known poems, Dark Night of the Soul, is also among his best. It is a mystical poem telling us about one journey: that of the Soul towards her Beloved (God or Jesus); here the Lover (the Soul) and the Beloved (Jesus, God) consummate their union among the lilies. And that, to the author and his devout 16th century audience, is a burning moment of communion.

But as it has been noted more than once, Dark Night of the Soul could also be read not only in this traditional mystic sense, but also in a new torrid, erotic sense. Physical rather than Mystical. The Lover (not the "Soul" in this case, but, say, a female, any female, a young woman) leaves her home now at rest, to greet her Beloved, waiting for her outside. She will walk the night which guides her, a night more lovely than the dawn, and she will recline her face on him, abandoning herself and leaving her cares forgotten among the lilies. With such a suggestive re-framing, the poem opens up to new sensual dimensions, and a richer reality.

Canadian Celtic singer and composer Loreena McKennit in her 1994 album The Mask and The Mirror, recreated St John of the Cross´s poem and as she herself explained, this erotic retelling was precisely the basis of her version.

Con a dark night, Kindled un love with yearnings

--oh, happy chance!--
I went forth without being observed, 
My house being now at rest. 
(...)
Oh, night that guided me, 
Oh, night more lovely than the dawn,
Oh, night that joined 
Beloved with lover, 
Lover transformed in the Beloved!
(...)
I remained, lost in oblivion; 
My face I reclined on the Beloved.
All ceased and I abandoned myself, 
Leaving my cares 
forgotten among the lilies."