1. For which of Your beautiful gifts should I give thanks,
And which of Your mighty hands should I remember?

2. I shall complain of being unable to show gratitude,
And that I both complain and give thanks is one of the strangest things.

3. Life draws its robe of life from Him,
And when it counts up His gifts it is speechless.

4. You left my side moist with dew, and it was fruitful,
And the branch of my hopes, flourishing and laden.

5. And You granted me of Your grace bounties
Which tomorrow my shoulder, though honored, cannot bear.

6. I will give thanks for them as long as I live, and if I die,
I will spread them out on the day I am raised again.

7. And even if in words I have been somewhat lavish
And this ink-stained speech has freely flowed from me,

8. I know that in praising I have fallen short
And that which You have granted is more ample and plentiful.

9. Moreover, when I voice my thanks to You
The garden of my soul blossoms and flowers from it.

10. The pure musk is still fragrant though shut tight,
As is the breeze though gentle and the air though scented.

11. So take them as the outpourings of an hour’s work
Which comes to You stumbling in shyness and confusion.