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When I think of how wrong I was, I grow confused; I cannot raise a fool's face to God, but to You who died for us upon a cross of wood, I can turn a faithful heart. Your pain and love shelter me from God's anger at what happened so long ago and goes on still today; You give me real precious security, hope and peace when before all was anxiety and dread. As Your breath went, You prayed for us: "Father, let those who believe join me." And now I'm not afraid: You have made me believe and know Your Passion, a wild-fire that razed my guilt and You suddenly on the cross. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V CXLIV:304. See also B S1:159:164; no MSs; Valgrisi 160. Translation: Lawley 102-3. A nineteenth in a series meditating Christ. Key |
