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Qvanne
I zenke onne the rode
Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Ashmole 360, f. 145vb
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Text
Qvanne I
zenke onne the rode
Quor-upeone thu stode,
Squete Iesu, mi leman,
Hu bi the was stondende |
Translation
When I
consider the cross
On which you stood,
Sweet Jesus, my lover,
How there stood beside you |
| 5 |
Thi
moder wepende
An thi disciple sei[n]
Iohan,
Hu thi rige was isqungen,
A[n]
ti side zurhc stungen,
For the gilte of man, |
Your
mother weeping,
And your disciple St John,
How your back was scourged,
And your side pierced through
For the guilt of man, |
| 10
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Hu
thi fet ibledden
An ti honde he spredden
That he miten telle thi boan,
Hu the
stoanes tobreken,
The dede arisen an speken, |
How
your feet bled
And they stretched out your hands
So they could count your bones,
How the stones shattered,
The dead arose and spoke, |
| 15 |
The
sunne vex al wan,
No selli theth I wepe
An mi sinnes bette
If I liuien
wel can.
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The
sun grew very pale,
No wonder if I weep,
And atone for my sins,
If I know how to live properly. |
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