Stood the sorrowful Mother, beside the cross, tearful, while Jesus suffered.
A long and cold sword, in that troubled hour, pierced her heart.
Oh, how sad and so distressed suffered the blessed Mother, among blasphemies and curses,
looking at the beloved Son, nailed by feet and arms, bleeding from the five wounds!
Who would not weep, seeing the Virgin Mary torn in her heart,
unable, in such a moment, to contain the furies of the wind and the hatreds of the crowd?
Firm and heroic in her post, she saw Jesus lowering his face, letting out his final breath.
O Christ, for your Mother, who is also our Mother, give us the immortal palm.
Mary, source of love, make it so that in your pain with you I also weep.
Make my heart be all gratitude to Christ, of whom you are Mother.
From your gaze comes the light that leads me to see Jesus in his immense agony.
With you, O Virgin, I share the sorrows of your Son, in whom my soul trusts.
Hands joined, by your side, let me know, my whole life, to be guided by you in my steps.
And, when the night comes, let me feel myself falling asleep in the warmth of your arms.
Virgin of virgins, Queen, Mother of God, my Lady, to weep with you is to pray.
Each tear shed reminds me of a star fallen from the depths of your gaze.
On Calvary, among martyrdoms, you were the lily of lilies, all dewy with weeping.
Over the hatred that killed him, you were the love that adored the Son three times holy.
May the cross of the Lord guard me, from morning until evening, my contrite soul.
And, when death arrives, may I be able to go rest in its blessed shadow. Amen.
