Suffering is my finery;
A cloak of suffering sewn for me
Is lined with all the grief I bear.
Oh, help me God, it shows no wear or tear.
If suffering were a joy I’d seldom grieve.
Wherever I go it accompanies me.
The lining is the grief I bear.
Help me, God, this cloak will show no wear or tear.
I see more clearly every day
That I was born for grief and pain.
If I were somehow free of all this misery,
I would be lost eternally.
So I will put all trust and hope
In no one but almighty God,
Who never will leave me alone
As long as I cling to His Word.
From: van Gemert, Lia; Joldersma, Hermina; van Marion, Olga; van der Poel, Dieuwke; Schenkeveld-van der Dussen, Biet (eds.), Women’s Writing from the Low Countries, 1200-1875: A Bilingual Anthology, 2010, Amsterdam University Press: Amsterdam, p. 197.
(https://books.google.com.au/books?id=Kj7YsJVHm4MC)
Date: 1586 (original in Dutch); 2010 (translation in English)
By: Alyt van Bronckhorst uunde Batenborch (fl. 1586)
Translated by: Myra J. Heerspink Scholz (1944- )
From Troubles of The World 