Stabat iuxta Christi crucem

1a
Stabat iuxta Christi crucem
Stabat videns vite ducem
Vite valefacere;
1b
Stabat mater, nec iam mater,
Et quid sit eventus ater,
Novo novit funere.

2a
Stabat virgo spectans crucem,
Et utramque pati lucem
Set plus suam, doluit.
2b
Illa stabat, hic pendebat,
Et que foris hic ferebat
Hec intus sustinuit.

3a
Intus cruci conclavatur,
Intus sui iugulator
Mater agni gladio.
3b
Intus martir consecrator,
Intus tota concrematur
Amoris incendio.

4a
Modo manus, modo latus,
Modo ferro pes foratus
Occulis resumiter.
4b
Modo caput spinis tutum,
Cuius orbis totus nutum
Et sentit et sequitur.

5a
Os verendum lutum sputis
Et flagellus rupta cutis
Et tot rivi sanguinis.
5b
Probra, risus et que restant,
Orbitati tela prestant
Et dolori virginis.

6a
Nunc, nunc parit, Nunc scit vere,
Quam maternum sit dolore
Quam amarum parere.
6b
Nunc se dolor orbitati
Dilatus in partu nati,
Presentat in funere.

7a
Eya mater, eya leta,
Fletus tui nox expleta
Lucesit in gaudium.
7b
Nostre quoque, letum mane,
Nocti pulsquam triduane
Tuum redde filium.
Amen.

1a
Standing near the cross of Christ
Standing she sees the Lord of life
Bid life farewell;
1b
Standing by is the mother, no longer mother,
And knew what the dark event was
From the new death.

2a
Standing the Virgin saw the cross,
And grieved at what both lives suffered,
But more at his.
2b
She stood there, he hung there,
And what he bore on his body
She suffered inwardly.

3a
Inwardly crucified,
Inwardly slain by the sword,
Is herself, the lamb’s mother.
3b
Inwardly consecrated a martyr,
Inwardly is consumed with fire,
With the flames of love.

4a
Now his hands, now his side,
Now his feet pierced with iron;
She takes it in with her eyes.
4b
Now his head covered with thorns,
The head whose nod
The world feels and obeys.

5a
His noble head spit upon with mud,
His skin cut by whips;
The innumerable streams of blood.
5b
The insults and laughter:
All these give a sharp edge
To the virgin’s grief.

6a
Now, now she gives birth;
Now she knows
What a mother’s grief is.
6b
How bitter it is to give birth;
Now the pain, deferred in her giving birth
Presents itself at his death.

7a
Ah mother, ah happy mother:
The night filled with your mourning
Shall shine with joy.
7b
To our mourning also,
To our night of more than three days,
Give your son our happy morning.
Amen.