Preserve me, Comfort, for in you I take refuge.
I say to Comfort, “You are my all; I have no good apart from you.”
As for the Comfortable, I long to join their number,
yet Comfort always eludes me.
The sorrows of those who run after another God shall multiply;
Comfort shall brook no rival, and will flee from the righteous.
I entrust myself to Comfort, my desired portion and my hope;
you hold my longing.
I sometimes get a hint of what you promise;
but you turn to ashes in my hands.
Comfort heralds a life without pain or hardship,
my heart yearns for this; and yet
Comfort is ever before me,
just out of reach.
Therefore my heart is broken, and joy is a vapor;
I am tossed to and fro in the storm of life.
For Comfort comes closest in life’s last breath,
before it abandons me to ruin.
Comfort promises a path of flourishing,
joy and security abounding;
but it is never enough, and I am undone.