Something haunting and delightfully solemn about traditional Latin Compline.
APERI, Dómine, os meum ad benedicéndum nomen sanctum tuum: munda quoque cor meum ab ómnibus vanis, pervérsis et aliénis cogitatiónibus; intelléctum illúmina, afféctum inflámma, ut digne, atténte ac devóte hoc Offícium recitáre váleam, et exaudíri mérear ante conspéctum divínæ Majestátis tuæ. Per Christum Dóminum nostrum. R. Amen.
Dómine, in unióne illíus divínæ intentiónis, qua ipse in terris laudes Deo persolvísti, hanc tibi Horam persólvo.
V. Jube, Dómine, benedícere.
Benedictio: Noctem quiétam, et finem perféctum concédat nobis Dóminus omnípotens. R. Amen.
Lectio brevis, 1 Petri 5, 8-9
FRATRES: Sóbrii estóte, et vigiláte: quia adversárius vester diábolus tamquam leo rúgiens círcuit, quærens quem dévoret: cui resístite fortes in fide. Tu autem, Dómine, miserére nobis. R. Deo grátias.
V. Adjutórium nostrum in nómine Dómini. R. Qui fecit cælum et terram.
(--Compline (Latin) · The Monks of Prinknash Abbey) youtube
I must concede the saying that showed up at my feet a long time ago:
on revient toujours a son premier metier
As did this fragment:
hasta esto momento nohay absolutimente cambio alguno
Words, in whichever language, just show up when aware or unaware, listening or ignoring.
They stay.
These two instances, over life span decades wandering, aporia wondering, alone-with-others eremetic communality, are proof positive of the unfathomible
creatus/
creans of the ineffable and wholly effective utterance of word.