The poem (without the fancy text) is here:


Blissful Longing

Tell nobody except the wise,
Because the mob is immediately scornful;
I wish to praise that element of life
Which longs for a fiery death.

In that coolness of nights of love
Which begat you, where you begat,
An unfamiliar sensation comes over you
When the silent taper shines.

No longer do you remain embraced
By the shadow of the darkness,
But a new desire draws you
Upward to a higher form of mating.

No degree of distance makes you doubtful;
You fly over and fall under a spell,
And, at last, lusting for the light,
Like a moth you are burned to death.

And so long as you don’t have it,
This “Die and be transformed!,”
You will only be a gloomy guest
On the dark earth.

~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe