The Window

Why do you stand by the window

Abandoned to beauty and pride

The thorn of the night in your bosom

The spear of the age in your side

Lost in the rages of fragrance

Lost in the rags of remorse

Lost in the waves of a sickness

That loosens the high silver nerves

Oh chosen love, Oh frozen love 


Oh tangle of matter and ghost 


Oh darling of angels, demons and saints 


And the whole broken-hearted host 


Gentle this soul

And come forth from the cloud of unknowing 


And kiss the cheek of the moon 


The New Jerusalem glowing 


Why tarry all night in the ruin 


And leave no word of discomfort 


And leave no observer to mourn 


But climb on your tears and be silent 


Like a rose on its ladder of thorns

Oh chosen love, Oh frozen love...

Then lay your rose on the fire 


The fire give up to the sun 


The sun give over to splendour 


In the arms of the high holy one 


For the holy one dreams of a letter 


Dreams of a letter's death 


Oh bless thee continuous stutter 


Of the word being made into flesh

Oh chosen love, Oh frozen love...

Gentle this soul

~ Leonard Cohen