O heavens,
rain from above,
O clouds,
send us the Holy One;
O earth,
open up, you earth,
and let the Saviour spring up.
We are the desert,
we are the drought:
Maranatha! Maranatha!
We are the wind, nobody hears us:
Maranatha! Maranatha!
O heavens, rain from above…
We are the darkness,
nobody guides us:
Maranatha! Maranatha!
We are the chains,
nobody loosens us:
Maranatha! Maranatha!
O heavens, rain from above…
We are the cold,
nobody covers us:
Maranatha! Maranatha!
We are hunger,
nobody feeds us:
Maranatha! Maranatha!
O heavens, rain from above…
We are tears,
nobody dries us:
Maranatha! Maranatha!
We are suffering,
nobody looks at us:
Maranatha! Maranatha!
O heavens, rain from above…

Stabat Mater dolorosa,
juxta crucem lacrimosa.
dum pendebat filius.
Her grief-stricken soul,
suffering and anguished,
was pierced by a sword.
Stabat Mater dolorosa…
O how sad and afflicted
was the blessed
Mother of the Only-begotten.
Stabat Mater dolorosa…
Who can help but cry
when looking at Christ’s Mother
in such anguish?
Stabat Mater dolorosa…
For the sins of his people
she sees Jesus in torment
and subjected to scourging.
Stabat Mater dolorosa…
She sees her sweet Offspring
dying, abandoned,
giving us his spirit.
Stabat Mater dolorosa…
O Christ, when I die,
through your blessed Mother bring me
to the palm of victory!
Amen, amen, amen!
Amen, amen, amen!

You who dwell in the gardens,
where my companions are listening,
let me hear your voice,
let me hear your voice.
Flee, my beloved,
like a gazelle,
like a young stag,
on the sweet scented mountains.
I am in his eyes
as one who has found peace,
my vineyard is here in front of me,
my vineyard is here in front of me,
Flee, my beloved,
like a gazelle,
like a young stag,
on the sweet scented mountains.
You who dwell in the gardens…
The Church through Baptism has been introduced into the gardens of the Kingdom "where the
companions are listening."
There, as she has been made mother and teacher of all nations because of the experience of
love she has received and because of the suffering, the joys, the failures, the recoveries and – we
could say – because of the history of salvation that the Song of Songs expresses, the Church is
invited by the Bridegroom to let her voice be heard in a final yearning.
The Church answers with an eschatological paschal cry: what she has come to know and
experienced of the Bridegroom makes her desire to flee with him in a final exodus "to the sweet
scented mountains," which is Heaven, forever free.

In him there is no beauty,
in him there is no majesty,
no looks to attract our eyes,
he seemed no longer human.
Despised, rejected by all men,
a man of sorrows,
he who knows every kind of suffering.
Before him we turn away our face,
before him we turn away our face,
before him we turn away our face,
before him we turn away our face.
A broken man, considered as nothing,
despised, rejected by all men,
a man of sorrows,
he who knows every kind of suffering.
Before Him…
But it was he who took upon himself all our sins.
But it was he who took upon himself all our pains.
We had all gone astray, each on his own way.
Ill treated, yet he submitted,
he didn't say a word,
like a lamb brought to the slaughter.
Before Him…
Ill treated! Ill treated! Ill treated!