Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Sweet Son - aka Swete Sonne - translation from middle english

Swete sone, reu on me 
And breste out of thy bondes 
For me thinket that I see 
Thoru Bothen thin bondes 
Nailes driven into the tree 
So reufuliche thu honges 
Now is betre that I flee 
And lett alle these londes 

Swete sone, thy faire face 
Droppet all on blode 
And thy body downward 
Is bounded to the rode 
How may thy modress hert 
Tholen so swete fode 
That blessed was of alle born 
And best of alle gode 

How may thy modress hert 
Tholen so swete fode 
That blessed was of alle born 
And best of alle gode 

Swete sone, reu on me 
And bring me out of this live 
For me thinket that I see 
Thy deth, it neyhet swithe 
Thy feet nailed to the tree 
Now may I no more thrive 
For this werld withouten thee 
Ne shall me maken blithe

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sweet son, have pity on me
And break out of your bonds
For I think I see
Through both your hands
Nails have been driven into the tree
So painfully you hang there
It would be better if I fled now
And abandoned all these lands

Sweet son, your beautiful face
Is dripping with blood
And your body beneath
Is bound to the cross
How will your mother's heart
Endure such a sweet child
That was born most blessed of all
And was the most goodly of all

How will your mother's heart
Endure such a sweet child
That was born most blessed of all
And was the most goodly of all

Sweet son, have pity on me
And deliver me from this life
For I think I see
Your death approaches quickly
Your feet have been nailed to the tree
Now I may never prosper
For without you, all of this world
Can never make me happy

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