Dawn tinges the sky with purple,
the sound of praise echoes in the air.
The world rejoices in triumph,
hell trembles with fear:
while the King, Christ, frees mankind
from the dark prison of death
and leads us to life.
A stone sealed his tomb;
it was watched by many soldiers,
yet Christ triumphs with glory
and wakes from death:
no more mourning, nor weeping,
no more sorrows.
He rose from death! He rose from death!

You are beautiful, my beloved, like Tirzah,
as beautiful as Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem.
How beautiful are your feet in their sandals,
daughter of princes!
The curve of your hips,
the work of the hands of an artist;
your navel is like a rounded bowl;
your neck, like a tower of ivory;
your eyes, like the pools of Heshbon;
your head crowns you like Mount Carmel;
your hair is as dark as purple;
a king is held captive in your tresses.
You are beautiful, my beloved, like Tirzah,
as beautiful as Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem.
Who is she who rises like the dawn,
as beautiful as the moon, resplendent like the sun?
How beautiful you are, O my love,
how beautiful, my delight,
as beautiful as Jerusalem, as beautiful as Jerusalem.
You are beautiful, my beloved, like Tirzah,
as beautiful as Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem.
Ay! Jerusalem, Jerusalem.