One of the noblest things Bach wrote, blending triumph and despair -- those suspensions are devastating. The German chorale melody is in the pedals, and I have ventured to set one stanza thus, in an effort to preserve the shockingly vivid language:
In my heart's darkest corner
You hang upon your cross.
Before it I, a mourner,
Exult despite my loss.
Your image stands before me
When fears excite my breath,
As you, my Lord, restore me
And gently bleed to death.
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