Stabat Mater

Source: archive.org

Mary was in sorrow,
Her dying eyes dissolved in tears,
Seeing Jesus on the Cross.
A bloody sword, with a single blow,
Delivers this dear son to death,
And drives the mother to anguish.

Oh! how she burst into sobs,
Seeing, to crown her woes,
Her only love suffer so!
She faints, she trembles,
She sighs, she groans,
And longs to die in turn.

Who could restrain his tears,
Seeing the bitter pains
With which both are filled?
What heart of bronze or stone
Would not be moved
By their unheard-of torment?

Jesus, to wash away the sin
With which he sees his people stained,
Endures the scourges and torments;
And Mary, after a thousand deaths,
Sees that holy body give up its soul,
Which she carried in her womb.

Mother of love and sorrow,
Engrave both in my heart,
That it may suffer and know how to love.
To please my heavenly spouse,
May so charming and gentle a sword
At last consume me!

Holy Mother, engrave within me
The mark of this divine King,
His wounds and his nails;
Grant me a share in the blessed fate
Of a Son who, destroying death,
Triumphs over it only for us.

Fill me with the feelings
You had for his torments;
May I make them my delight.
I wish, to my final breath,
To be with you near the cross,
Which alone is all my desire.

Queen of Virgins, may my tears,
United with your sorrowful pains,
Be my consolation!
Deign to obtain for me from Jesus
That with eternal remembrance
I may honor his Passion.

May I be pierced by his blows;
May I be wounded by his shafts,
Intoxicated with his love!
And, inflamed with so holy a fervor,
For your sake may I escape the severity
Of the great Judge on the last day.

May his cross be my help;
May his death always protect me;
May his grace fulfill my vows.
Finally, order my destiny so well
That one day, after my death,
I may live forever in heaven.