#258 Stabat Mater (Jacopone da Todi, trad. Edward Caswall)

"Born in Todi  around year 1230, four years after the death of St Francis in Assisi, Jacopone died in Collazzone in year 1306: Dante Alighieri was starting writing the Divina Commedia. Jacopone da Todi may be considered as the greatest poet of the Franciscan ideal and of the Italian literature before Dante. He is a protagonist of the European culture of the XIII century." (Via)

"Edward Caswall, CO, (15 July 1814 – 2 January 1878) was an Anglican clergyman and hymn writer who converted to Catholicism and joined the Oratory of St. Philip Neri under future-cardinal John Henry Newman, to whose influence his conversion to Catholicism was due. He was ordained a Catholic priest in 1852. Caswall was delegated the responsibility of establishing the Oratory school, which opened in 1859. He often served as acting superior in Newman's absence." (Via)

Newman tiene un poema dedicado a Caswall. 

STABAT MATER

At the Cross her station keeping,
stood the mournful Mother weeping,
close to her Son to the last.

 

Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
all His bitter anguish bearing,
now at length the sword has passed.

 

O how sad and sore distressed
was that Mother, highly blest,
of the sole-begotten One.

 

Christ above in torment hangs,
she beneath beholds the pangs
of her dying glorious Son.

 

Is there one who would not weep,
whelmed in miseries so deep,
Christ's dear Mother to behold?

 

Can the human heart refrain
from partaking in her pain,
in that Mother's pain untold?

 

For the sins of His own nation,
She saw Jesus wracked with torment,
All with scourges rent:

 

She beheld her tender Child,
Saw Him hang in desolation,
Till His spirit forth He sent.

 

O thou Mother! fount of love!
Touch my spirit from above,
make my heart with thine accord:

 

Make me feel as thou hast felt;
make my soul to glow and melt
with the love of Christ my Lord.

 

Holy Mother! pierce me through,
in my heart each wound renew
of my Savior crucified:

 

Let me share with thee His pain,
who for all my sins was slain,
who for me in torments died.

 

Let me mingle tears with thee,
mourning Him who mourned for me,
all the days that I may live:

 

By the Cross with thee to stay,
there with thee to weep and pray,
is all I ask of thee to give.

 

Virgin of all virgins blest!,
Listen to my fond request:
let me share thy grief divine;

 

Let me, to my latest breath,
in my body bear the death
of that dying Son of thine.

 

Wounded with His every wound,
steep my soul till it hath swooned,
in His very Blood away;

 

Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,
lest in flames I burn and die,
in His awful Judgment Day.

 

Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence,
be Thy Mother my defense,
be Thy Cross my victory;

 

While my body here decays,
may my soul Thy goodness praise,
Safe in Paradise with Thee.