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On Sorrow’s Path « The Thinking Housewife
The Thinking Housewife
 

On Sorrow’s Path

April 10, 2020

 

HUNDREDS of composers have put to music the 13th-century poem The Stabat Mater, which recounts the sorrow of Mary as she witnessed the Crucifixion. Pergolesi finished this famous version in 1736. The Ultimate Stabat Mater Site, started by a man with no religious background, is devoted exclusively to the music.

This rhyming translation from the original Latin into English comes courtesy of the site:

Rhyming English translation by Beatrice E. Bullman

Mother bowed with grief appalling must thou watch, with tears slow falling, on the cross Thy dying son!
Through my heart, thus sorrow riven, must that cruel sword be driven, as foretold – O Holy One!
Oh, how mournful and oppressed was that Mother ever-blessed, Mother of the Spotless One:
She, whose grieving was perceiving, contemplating, unabating, all the anguish of her Son!
Is there any, tears withholding, Christ’s dear Mother thus beholding, in woe – like no other woe!
Who that would not grief be feeling for that Holy Mother kneeling – what suffering was ever so?
For the sins of every nation she beheld his tribulation, given to scourgers for a prey:
Saw her Jesus foully taken, languishing, by all forsaken, when his spirit passed away.
Love’s sweet fountain, Mother tender, haste this hard heart, soft to render, make me sharer in Thy pain.
Fire me now with zeal so glowing, love so rich to Jesus, flowing, that I favor may obtain.
Holy Mother, I implore Thee, crucify this heart before Thee, guilty it is verily!
Hate, misprision, scorn, derision, thirst assailing, failing vision, railing, ailing, deal to me.
In Thy keeping, watching, weeping, by the cross may I unsleeping live and sorrow for his sake.
Close to Jesus, with Thee kneeling, all Thy dolours with Thee feeling, oh grant this – the prayer I make.
Maid immaculate, excelling, peerless one, in heav’n high dwelling, make me truly mourn with Thee.
Make me sighing hear Him dying, ever newly vivifying the anguish He bore for me.
With the same scar lacerated, by the cross enfired, elated, wrought by love to ecstasy!
Thus inspired and affected let me, Virgin, be protected when sounds forth the call for me!
May his sacred cross defend me, he who died there so befriend me, that His pardon shall suffice.
When this earthly frame is riven, grant that to my soul is given all the joys of Paradise!

 

— Comments —

S.K. writes:

Thank you so much for your post “On Sorrow’ Path.” The music both hurt me and helped me on this mournful day in this troubled world.

Small essays and heartfelt words have an astonishing power to lift the hearts of people you don’t even know and will never know in this life.

In this life.

May you have a blessed and peaceful Easter.

Laura writes:

Thank you!

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