Capitulum XVI
The Sweetness of the Virgin Mother
The author reflects on the beauty and grace of the Virgin Mary, comparing her to the renewal of spring and expressing deep devotional love for her maternal intercession.
The mother of Jesus stood by the cross. In springtime, when the sun begins to climb high and pour its fruitful light onto the earth, all the plants once bound by winter's frost begin to revive. Animals and birds hidden in caves and various shelters begin to breathe in the new light and regain their strength, showing the joy of their hearts through songs or applause. The human race, old and young alike, rejoices at the coming of spring, and the whole earth is adorned in beauty, applauding and celebrating. Therefore, let all pure hearts love God with a sincere mind. It is fitting that we reflect on this now, for it happens to us just as it did to the fruitful virgin, the chosen queen of heaven: she enters the boundaries of our hearts like the sun, and her memory shines brightly in our minds, unclouded. Indeed, the hardness of heart is continually softened in the face of such immense joy. Everything dry is watered by the dew of heaven. The darkness is driven away; a new light rises, and an immense source of joy is gathered for us. Therefore, to you, O our hope, joy, and gladness of our hearts, we miserable sinners burst forth in the voice of salvation, and we greet you, with a sigh and tears from the depths of our hearts, and with a devoted kneeling of our hearts, most affectionately, O Mother. The children rejoice at the sound of the organ, and all hearts are uplifted by the joyful sounds. Thus, I burn with the fire of divine love for your most sweet memory, eager to praise you, just as the whole world praises you, along with the fullness of heaven and all its virtues. Indeed, the goodness of every creature, when compared to your dignity, is like the faint light of a star compared to the immense brightness of the sun. For you, divine wisdom has adorned its grace so excellently and invested its goodness so abundantly that its incomprehensible light shining in you may become more desirable for us through your radiance. When I reflect on the illustrious men who praised you from the beginning, I am filled with awe and find myself without spirit. But when I return to myself, I ponder within, saying: O hail, blessed virgin, glory of virgins; whatever the tongue has ever been able to say about your praise, the pen has been able to write, the heart has been able to think, all those things collected together and written down into one bouquet of violets, multiplied and centupled, I offer to you with a devoted heart, adorned with gold, sweet in flavor, and aromatic in scent, to praise and glorify you, blessed virgin, now and forever. When I gaze upon you, I seem to behold the heavens sparkling with their brilliance; I think I inhabit a paradise of delight, forgetting myself in the greatness of you, amazed by the immensity of your glory, and overflowing with virtue: O height of divine wisdom and goodness of God, how joyfully you rejoiced with a glad heart when you brought forth this noble creature of such perfect beauty into the world for joy. O virgin eyes, shining with excessive brightness, O cheeks glowing red, O hair shining with golden splendor. O your most blessed lips, sanctified by the frequent kisses of the Son. And although everything within you is formed and adorned most wisely by divine wisdom, your breasts, which nourished the Lord King, are especially sweet to us, for from them life flows and sweetness emanates, healing all who are weary. Blessed is the woman who expressed such true and joyful sentiments about this, exclaiming in the crowd to the Savior: "Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts that nursed you." O blessed breasts that nursed Christ the Lord. Your abundance and most fruitful fertility bring joy to both heavenly and earthly beings, and they find delight in your gifts. These are like the kids of the goats that graze among the lilies until the day breathes and the shadows incline. Behold, the Creator of the world adorned the heavenly bodies with stars, the earthly bodies with living creatures and birds, the groves with green leaves, and the meadows with blooming flowers. But above all this, the blessed Virgin adorned your body with the most sacred breasts. These are two beautiful and most fruitful olives, offering the liquid of grace, milk, and honey to those above and below: a pomegranate of snowy whiteness, which, having been made fruitful by the Holy Spirit, is placed on the tree in the midst of paradise, providing the immortality of life when tasted. These are golden pomegranates, beautiful and lily-like, adorning the temple of the true Solomon: fragrant mandrakes planted in the garden of delights: clusters of vines from Engaddi, bringing joy to the hearts of the wretched and driving away sorrow. Your breasts are indeed better than wine, fragrant with the finest oils. For in wine there is indeed luxury and earthly delight. But in these golden flowers of desire, there is a most harmful lust, and a certain celestial and supernatural delight. Those who have tasted it know how quickly and completely all carnal pleasure fades away once they have savored the milk of your grace. For the fragrant oils of heaven, the venomous serpents were frightened away, and they could not endure the presence of such purity. Then their hearts were filled with joy, nourished by an extraordinary gift. The tongue was silent, but the spirit rejoiced in the Lord. The eyes wept and shed sweet tears. But the mouth longed to hold this most delightful flavor and most divine liquid, and it struggled to savor it more frequently with pious devotion. All the inner parts cried out together: "Your breasts are better than wine, fragrant with the finest oils." Let those who understand, understand. O venerable Mother, saved by your immense goodness, since all that you have comes from Him from whom all good proceeds, there is still something that seems sweeter and more pleasant to the wretched soul, when it flees to your breasts, filled with sweetness and grace, than when it approaches the spiritual wine that it drinks. For indeed, perfect sweetness is felt here; however, a certain mixed bitterness is lost. For indeed, that eternal wisdom joins the rod of consolation with the strict rod of correction. Behold, blessed Mother, you have been able to notice how often you have nourished me with the sweetness of your words, as if with a certain milky sweetness, and again, by your authority, you have instilled in me a fear like the austerity of wine. From this come words of comfort that reveal the strictness of correction. And when I would have joyfully received him as my beloved spouse, I was suddenly struck with awe at the remembrance of his divinity, so that I begged my judge. And when I sometimes sought milk, it rejected me, and as if weaning me, it showed a certain harshness over its mother. But what about you? Truly, from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, there is nothing in you that is bitter or harsh; rather, everything in you is the purest sweetness, possessing an incomparable delight that surpasses the fragrance and value of all perfumes and ointments. You are altogether beautiful and sweet, having nothing of harshness or severity. With a kind face, a serene expression, sweet words, gentle and beautiful, abundant in goodness, and full of grace. In you, O Lord, is all grace of life and truth; in you is all hope of life and virtue. Wine is drawn with milk from eternal wisdom, but honeycomb is received from you with sweetness, the purest sweetness. But what are these, your sweetest breasts? Indeed, these are that you receive all sinners into your most loving embrace, and you faithfully reconcile those received to your Son. O precious treasure of the wretched. Indeed, when we sinned, we lost the highest King; when we offended the angels, we became heavy with our own burdens, and we completely don’t know what we should do: all that remains for the wretched is to lift our eyes, both of heart and body, to you, seeking counsel and asking for help. O joy of my heart, my only hope and life's delight, you know how often I have offended God with a bitter spirit, a troubled heart, and a tearful face, thinking I would be a lost son surrounded by enemies on all sides. I lift my eyes to you, most merciful Virgin, and through your help, blessed Virgin, I have escaped every danger. Let others rejoice in their innocence, let others delight in the abundance of their merits, and let others exult in the mercy of God; you, my mother, are my glory, my hope, and my only comfort in life. When I despair completely of God and of myself, my spirit revives as if from the deepest darkness just by thinking of you and remembering you. You are my glory, my salvation, my honor, and my life. But where does this hope of mine come from?
A Sinner's Plea to the Mother
The author, acknowledging his own unworthiness as a sinner, pleads for Mary's intercession and presents her to Christ as his advocate.
You have many beloved children whose innocence can save them, and who possess good works of their own—those who can say with the righteous man, "My heart has never condemned me in all my life." O sorrow and anguish of my heart, how immense you are! Sweetest Mother, our Mother—I say our Mother in a unique way, for we are miserable sinners—you know that my whole life is a pure reproach. Behold, look upon your infirmity. I am not worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your miserable, sick ones. Remember, dear Mother, that mothers are used to caring for their sick children with great concern, and showing them more compassion and giving them greater attention. A poor person is abandoned to you; you will be a helper to the orphan. You know my wounds, dear Mother. Visit the weak, raise the dead, and comfort the sorrowful. Let those who lived wisely and justly come to the light of understanding. Woe is me. But I, a wretched sinner, drenched in tears, take refuge under your protection, not daring to appear naked and needy before such great light; instead, I flee to you, Mother. You are my hope, my tower, in which I have placed the entirety of my salvation. If, God forbid, the angry judge should wish to condemn his servant for his sins, may he do so through your most merciful hands. But if, by grace, he has decided to save me, may he deign to send me salvation through you. I do not want to be separated from you, whether alive or dead, neither in good times nor in bad, ever. Indeed, if I should ever, God forbid, become insane and wicked enough to forget you, may I never truly forget you. I will never let you go. The memory of you is above me, and there is sweetness in my mouth. My face is joyful in you, my heart rejoices, and all my strength exults together. And not without reason. Whenever I am satisfied by the abundance of your consolation, you know well, O loving one, what remedies of salvation you have given to this miserable sinner. Therefore, O our advocate, arise, O loving one, arise, be merciful, turn your merciful eyes toward us, and appease your only-begotten Son for us, who has been offended so many times. You are indeed the advocate for the guilty; therefore, come closer and intercede for us, we ask. Nothing can be denied to you, beloved Son, full of grace. O eternal wisdom of the Father, behold, I now bring before you your sweetest mother, presenting her to you while I hide behind her back, not daring to lift my eyes before the glory of your face, hoping to be heard through her. I ask you to honor and venerate her. How could you ever reject such a mother with such grace? And if she were to come to you a thousand times in a day, she wouldn't be turned away. Hear me, Lord, for the sake of your goodness and the unique honor of your beloved mother. For just as I present you as my advocate to the heavenly Father and your parent, so I present to you your beloved mother as my helper, that she may graciously supply for my imperfections and the greatness of her acceptance. Now, therefore, O most glorious wisdom, pay attention to your glorious mother. Look at the eyes of this sweetest mother before you, interceding for us, who held you so gently in her arms, gazing at you with such peace: her cheeks, flushed with a rosy hue, were turned toward your delicate face with maternal affection. Ah, how blessed are her lips, with which she kissed your blessed mouth, your shining eyes, and every one of your most noble limbs, showering them with kisses and sweetly mixing words with her caresses. Behold the hands that served you, and the sweetest, most blessed breasts that nourished you.
Standing at the Cross
A meditative account of Mary's sorrow at the foot of the cross, inviting the reader to share in the compassion of her maternal heart.
O sweetest goodness, behold, it is not fitting that anything should be denied to this mother, who gazed upon you, the Lord of heaven, whom she bore, nursed, and cherished, and led to growth. Remember, I ask you, all the services and gifts you received from her in your childhood, when she held you, a delicate infant, in her arms, and you turned your smiling eyes to your sweet mother. Recall all the sorrows she bore in her maternal heart while standing beneath the cross. For his mother stood by the cross of Jesus. O word of all compassion. For even though, O my innermost being, you ought to be moved by the pains and afflictions of such a pious Savior hanging on the cross, yet it is fitting for us, who were once wrapped in the darkness of our sins, to be brought to light now by the help of the Mother of God, to stand beside that mother at the cross and to fully endure the immense pain of her suffering Son in her heart, especially in a unique and particular way, from the depths of our hearts. For we, the miserable, are continually consoled by her; it is only just that we also share in the suffering of the one who is suffering. And although we cannot share in her suffering as we ought, we can at least call her pain to mind and stir up our devotion as best we can. Let us inquire into the magnitude of the sorrow of the holy mother, which is unknown to us, by considering the manifest pains that we experience from afar. Let each lover ask themselves: if they saw the beloved thing they love intensely condemned to a shameful death, how much pain would they feel from that, and how deeply would they be moved with compassion; even if someone who does not love could not perceive such a thing in themselves. Let this pious soul reflect, and from these things it will be exceedingly credible what can be said about the pain of her who loved more than all mortals, and grieved when she saw her beloved condemned to the most shameful death. O Mary, what was in your heart when you stood by the cross and saw Jesus, the blessed fruit of your womb, hanging there? Indeed, reason dictates this, experience proves it, and the power of love confirms it: you have suffered greatly. You suffered greatly because you loved greatly. If the mere memory of your Son's passion can leave some devoted souls almost lifeless with compassion, what must the actual presence of that passion have done to her who bore the Savior of the world in suffering? If this memory only burns in the heart of a sinner, O how much more must it have burned in the mind of the most holy mother! We know, O blessed Virgin, how intensely someone who has experienced love cherishes their beloved, and how much more honorable, delightful, and beneficial the presence of that beloved is; therefore, the greater the absence, the greater the sorrow it brings. But truly, and without any doubt, I believe that the gracious presence of your beloved incomparably exceeds all the grace of all mortal beings. So let our Mother tell us: if she held such great love for her Son, could she rejoice in Him, or would she rather grieve? Let Him now come among us and respond to us in such a way, with a living voice, though absent in body, truly present in spirit, and say: "He who deemed me, a humble servant, worthy of being chosen as a mother, has bound my heart with the most ardent love for Himself, so that my spirit could find joy and sorrow only in Him." For in Him I possessed everything, and His love was to me a full possession of the whole world. My soul was there where Jesus was, and I lived more in Him than in myself. To behold His beautiful form was the joy of my heart; to contemplate His divinity was a sweet delight. Thinking of Him brought me joy; speaking of Him was the sweetest comfort. Hearing those words from Him was the sweetest music to me. He was the mirror of my heart, the spectacle of my eyes. In His presence, He provided me with both heavenly and earthly good things. When I saw this only-begotten Son, the precious treasure of my heart, hanging contemptibly on the cross with thieves, and suffering the pains of death, oh, how unbearable that sight was for me! How lamentable and painful this vision was for me! My soul was tormented with pain, my maternal heart was wounded, and all my bones were dying. Every strength vanished, my senses left me, and an immense calamity oppressed me. I lifted my tearful eyes upward and saw my beloved hanging there, yet I could find no comfort in that. I looked down and, with immense pain, saw those who had taken my treasure and were tormenting him so cruelly. Oh, how my soul was tormented within me; how greatly I suffered in pain. I was bereft in heart because he had taken my heart away and was holding the crucified one with him. I had lost my voice in the clamor and much weeping, so that I could hardly speak. I collapsed from the pain and fell down in sorrow. Yet, somehow regaining my spirit, I broke out into these and similar words: O joy and exultation of my spirit, light of my eyes, once I saw you with joy and exultation of my heart, but now I am filled with immense sorrow and grief. Alas, alas, how miserably I see you now hanging there. O half of my soul, O unique comfort of my life. Take me with you, my most sorrowful mother, for I long to die; I can no longer live without you. Do not abandon me, sweetest son, but let me go with you. O who will grant me to die for you? Oh, the incomparable sorrows of a mother bereft, the desolation of a grieving mother. I see that my life and my entire salvation depend on dying. As she speaks these and similar sorrowful words, the most sorrowful mother is somewhat forgotten by her son, who is lost in his own pain, yet he tenderly comforts her. As he dies and withdraws from me, he gives me permission, and he entrusts to his disciple whom he loved uniquely. When the mother hears the voice of her son speaking, her heart begins to burn with intense pain, and a sword of sorrow pierces the soul of the most faithful mother. I raised my hands upward in the desire of my heart, longing to touch my beloved, so that I might better attend to my pain and love. Having no other comfort, I passionately kissed the steaming blood dripping from my son's wounds to the ground, longing for it so deeply that the mother's face was stained with the blood of her slain son. If you had seen in that lamentable hour the misery of a mother grieving for her suffering son, the pain of the son for his sorrowful mother, the mother for her dying son who deserved consolation, and the son sweetly comforting his desolate mother, you would not have been able to hear or see this without an internal wound of compassion. Finally, after my son's death, when he was taken down from the cross, I held his limp arms with the deepest affection and gathered my dead son into my maternal embrace. I embraced him with maternal love. I bathed the face of the dead one with my tears and soothed his fresh wounds with frequent kisses. What a miserable sight! I gazed at the life of my heart, and behold, he was dead. I looked again and again, but there was no voice and no sense. I spoke to him, but he did not answer me. I was groaning from the anguish of my heart. Those who wanted to take away and bury my dead—my treasure—were standing there. Then I wept and groaned, and I let out cries of lament. My heart was shaken with pain as they tried to tear away my beloved son, who was held tightly in his mother's arms. I pressed my tearful face against his, often taking his face in my hands and gazing at him repeatedly, and I groaned because I was filled with bitterness. I was. But there was no one who could see this, and no one could feel compassion for the suffering mother. Finally, after the burial of my son, I was greatly reduced in sorrow. But at his resurrection, when I saw him so glorious, I received full consolation; and so, the cause of my sorrows turned into the cause of spiritual joys. Thus far are the words of the virgin.
Union in the Passion
The author seeks to unite his own soul with the suffering of Christ and the compassion of Mary, concluding with a prayer for final salvation.
Moreover, we who could not hear this without groaning and weeping, think of interrupting your speech, O Virgin Mother, because of the intensity and abundance of such tears, with which we, O pious Virgin, suffer with you from the depths of our hearts. Oh, how hardened is the heart that does not suffer with you from the depths of its being; how poorly dried are the eyes that, seeing you weeping like this, cannot shed tears; how cold is the breast that does not groan in response to this! Oh, if only all our bones could die with you! Blessed are your arms, for I see now the beloved one reclined between them. O Gene, also of the rose-bearing Mother, blessed are you, blooming with a blood-red hue. Your blessed maternal breast, the container of such great sorrow, over which I now see my King reclined with the eyes of my heart. O golden throne, chosen above all ivory thrones and gilded seats, preserved for this hour to bear the Author of life in the form of one who is dead. But what can I say? Behold, I am now placed before you, most loving Mother, with a tearful mind; I beseech and urge you in the Lord, that you grant me your most cherished treasure, my King and Lord, who was offered and died for me, in that form under which I now behold Him, pale and full of sorrow, in your embrace beneath the wood of the cross, that this very thing, which was granted to you in bodily presence and in the moment of your compassion and pain, may be granted to me spiritually and in memory, as befits a wretched sinner. Give me my Savior. Grant me whom I love, for I cannot wait any longer. Receive now my soul, beloved of the Beloved, and grant her the most affectionate signs of love and compassion. O my beloved, my salvation and my liberator, my love and the glory of my soul. Behold, now with the most fervent affection, I am entirely withdrawn from all things, and with all the powers of my soul gathered together as one, I turn to you, I gaze upon you attentively with all my strength and effort, as much as it has ever been possible to contemplate the beloved by the beloved with love. Look, my beloved, the inner chamber of my heart is reserved for you alone, and closed to this world; it is opened to this voice, longing to receive you through your entrance. The depths of all my desires are now expanding toward you, like a rose that, closed by the chill of night, hastens to open to the rays of the sun. My whole soul, burning with love, stretches out its arms with great longing; it gladly runs to you and, amidst falling tears, rushes into your spiritual embrace. O my entire salvation: with such a burning desire, I now receive you in the arms of my soul. I embrace you and unite myself to you with reverence, praise, and thanksgiving. I beseech you, through the depths of your mercy, not to let this precious death be frustrated in me, but to unite me to the grace of your reception so effectively that neither prosperity nor adversity may ever separate me from you. Look, my eyes are fixed on your pale face; my whole soul is consumed with love for you, and I kiss your blood-stained wounds again and again, while all my strength and power are nourished by the fruit of this sorrowful passion. I now sit under the shadow of the one I have long desired, and the sweet fruit of his presence is on my lips. And not without reason. For there are indeed some who rejoice in the purity of their lives; others boast of their many merits, or take delight in the vastness of their spiritual exercises. But what about me? Truly, all my hope and comfort depend on your passion, on the greatness and preciousness of your merits, and on the most compassionate piety of your mother, so that you alone know who has considered my poverty. I must keep this remembrance of the Lord's Passion in my heart with deep affection, and with the help of grace, I must pursue it in my words and deeds, honoring it with all reverence. O King of kings and Lord of lords, whom I now embrace with full affection as I see you mortified and afflicted by suffering, grant that I may be worthy to see you glorified and exalted, seated at the right hand of the Father in heaven, forever. But you, O blessed Virgin, most loving mother, who stood by the cross of your Son and felt the wounds of his suffering deeply in your soul, and who were sprinkled with his blood—you alone kept perfect fidelity until the end, and with great sorrow were separated from the tomb of your Son. I recall to you all these wounds of compassion for your singular glory. And just as now, with devoted affection, I embrace you, O venerable mother, between the arms of my heart, and associating you with tears of compassion, I lead you through the gate of the once-great city of Jerusalem back to the house, following the example of past events: so, O mother of grace, in this hour of extreme examination, may my soul and the souls of all your disciples be received by you as they come forth from the prison of the body, and may they be brought to that glorious Jerusalem with joy. Amen. Thus ends the first book.
Read the original Latin
Stabat iuxta crucem Jhesu mater eius. Tempore vernali cum ad alta celi sol incipit ascendere, et terris infundere radiorum suorum fecundam luminositatem: Ecce vegetabilia cuncta hyemali glacie constricta incipiunt revirescere. Animanda quoque et volatilia in antris et specubus ac diversis quibusque latibulis abscondita, ad tante lucis novitatem respirare indpiunt ac vires resumere, et cordis letidam ostendere cantibus vel plausibus letabundis. Hominum quoque genus, senes cum iunioribus eius in adventu exhylarantur, et tota superfides terre decore induitur, et applaudit ac congratulatur. Eya corda universa deum pura mente amanda, perpendite nunc quoniam similiter nobis accidit, cum sole amicta virgo fecunda, celi regina preelecta ut sol fines cordis nostri ingreditur, et memoria eius mentibus nostris rutilandus infunditur, absque nube. Continuo namque duricia omnis ad tante luds inmensitatem resolvitur.
Arida cuncta rore celestis grade irrigantur. Fugantur tenebre; lumen novum exoritur, et gaudiorum nobis materia inmensa cumulatur. Tibi ergo 0 spes nostra, gaudium et leticia cordis nostri, peccatores miseri in vocem salutadonis prorumpimus, Teque ex intimo cordis cum gemitu et lacrimis et devota cordis genuflexione affectuosissime matrem grade salutamus. Gaudent pueri ad sonitum organi, et ad letos rumores corda exhylarantur universa. Sic ad tuam quoque suavissimam memoriam totus estuo divini amoris incendio, Te laudare cupiens, quam laudat orbis terre et plenitudo eius, celi celorum et omnis virtus eorum. Omnis quippe creature bonitas ad tuam conparata dignitatem sic est, quasi noctiluce splendor exiguus ad solis daritatem inmensam.
Te namque divina sapiencia tam excellenter sua grada decoravit et bonitate tam multipliciter investivit, ut sua inconprehensibilis in te relucens sapienda, desiderabilior nobis ex tua refulgenda' reddatur. Cum mente pertracto viros illustres qui te laudaverunt ab inido, pre stupore defido, et ultra spiritum non habeo. Sed cum ad meipsum redeo, hec intra me revolvo dicens: 0 salve pia virgo decus virginum; quidquid umquam de tuo preconio lingwa dicere potuit, calamus scribere valuit, cor potuit cogitare, omnibus illis simul collectis et conscriptis et in unum manipulum violarum congestis, centuplicata et mfinicies multiplicata, corde devoto, aureo cum decore, mellifluo sapore, et odore aromatico tibi porrigo, ad laudandum et glorificandum te virgo beata nunc et inetemum. Cum te intueor, celum sydereo micans splendore michi videor intueri, paradysum voluptatis me puto inhabitare, inmemor mei ex magnitudine tui, stupens ex inmensitate glorie tue, et prodamans cum virtute: 0 altitudo dividarum sapiende et sdende dei, quam letabundo corde exultasti, cum hanc nobilem creaturam tam perfecti decoris huic mundo in gaudium condidisti. 0 oculi virginales nimio fulgore micantes, 0 gene rubentes, 0 crines aureo splendore nitentes. Felicissima labia tua, crebris osculis filii deificata.
Et licet totum quod in te est, circino divine sapiende prudentissime sit formatum et decentissime perornatum, singulariter tamen miseris ubera tua que lactaverunt regem dominum, duldus nobis sapiunt, quoniam ex eis vita procedit, et dulcedo emanat que cunctos langwidos sanat. Felix proinde mulier illa que tam veram quam iocundam de hac re protulit sentendam, in turba exclamans et dicens ad salvatorem: Beatus venter qui te portavit, et ubera que suxisti. 0 beata ubera que lactaverunt Cristum dominum. Vestra namque ab ubertate atque uberrima fecunditate celigene letantur atque terrigene, ac duldbus vestris recreantur ex fructibus. Hec velud hynnuli capree gemelli qui pascuntur in lyliis, donec aspiret dies, et inclinentur umbre. En conditor orbis corpora celestia ornavit syderibus, corpora elementaria animantibus ac volatilibus, nemora foliis virentibus, prata floribus ridentibus.
Sed super hec omnia, virgo beata corpus tuum sanctissimis decoravit uberibus. Hec simt due olyve speciose et uberrime, liquorem gracie, lactis ac mellis, superis ac inferis propinantes: Pomella nivei candoris, que a spiritu sancto fecundata, et in ligno quod est in medio paradysi collocata, fimetum inmortalitatis conferunt degustata. Hec sunt mala granata aurea, sperule ac lylia templum adornanda veri Salomonis: Mandragore odorifere in orto deliciarum plantate: Botri vinearum Engaddi, cordibus miserorum letidam conferentes, et tristiciam depellentes. Meliora quippe sunt ubera tua vino, fragranda ungentis optimis. Jn vino namque est luxuria et delectado terrena. Jn hiis autem fiolis aureis concupiscende noxie plenissima extinedo, et celestis quedam et supematuralis delectado.
Novit qui gustavit quam citissime et perfectissime o mnis voluptas carnalis evanuit, cum de lacte graciarum tuarum gustatum fuit. Ad fragrandam quippe ungentorum supernorum virulenti serpentes territi fugabantur, et sustinere non poterant presendam tante puritatis. Jnpleta tunc gaudebant viscera, munere insolito sadata. Lingwa quidem obmutuit, spiritus vero in domino exultavit. Oculi flebant et dulces lacrimas deducebant. Os autem hunc suavissimum saporem et divinissimum liquorem diudus tenere et frequencius ruminare pio conamine contendebat.
Clamabantque omnia interiora pariter dicenda: Quoniam meliora sunt ubera tua vino, fragranda ungentis optimis. Qui intelligit intelligat. 0 mater veneranda, salva geniture tue videlicet eteme sapiende bonitate inmensa, cum hoc totum quod habes ab eo sit a quo omne bonum procedit, nichilominus tamen aliquid est quod duldus ac suavius invenire sibi videtur anima misera, cum ad ubera tua confugit dulcedine et gracia plena, quam cum ad vinum spirituale accedit quod propinat etema sapienda. Jbi namque perfecta sentitur suavitas; hic autem mixta quedam acerbitas perdpitur. Siquidem illa eterna sapienda baculo consolacionis virgam subiungit districte correcdonis. En mater beata advertere potuisti, quotiens me suavitate verborum suorum quasi lactea quadam linivit dulcedine, et rursus dominatione sua quasi austeritatem vini superinfundendo michi timorem ineussit.
Hinc verba consolationis, illin c verbera exhibens districte correptionis. Et cum ipsum iam habere velud sponsum karissimum gauderem, subito divinitatis eius recordatione stupefactus, ut iudicem meum deprecabar. Et cum interdum lac peterem, repulit, et quasi ablactando super matre sua acetosam exhibuit austeritatem. Tu autem quid? Vere a planta pedis usque ad verticem non est in te quidquam amaritudinis vel austeritatis, sed totum quod in te est, purissima est dulcedo,* inconparabilem habens suavitatem, omnium aromatum et ungentorum superans fragrantiam et pretiositatem. Tota formosa et suavis es, nil habens duritie vel severitatis.
Facie benigna, vultu serena, verbis mellita, suavis, et decora, bonitate fecunda, gratia plena. Jn te namque o mnis gratia vie et veritatis, in te omnis spes vite et virtutis. Vinum cum lacte sugitur a sapientia eterna, sed favus cum meile a te suscipitur, dulcedo purissima. Que sunt autem hec ubera tua dulcissima? Prorsus hec sunt, scilicet quod omnes peccatores sinu recipis benignissimo, et receptos tuo fideliter reconsilias filio. 0 thesaurus pretiosus miserorum.
En cum summum regem peccando perdidimus, cum offendimus angelos, cum etiam nobis metipsis graves sumus, et omnino nescimus quid agere debeamus: hoc solum restat miseris, ut oculos cordis et corporis ad te levemus, consilium querentes, petentes auxilium. 0 exultatio cordis mei, unica spes et gaudium vite mee, Tu scis quotiens amaro animo, corde turbato, facie lacrimosa, cum deum offenderam et me filium iehenne futurum estimabam, cum inimicis undique vallatus fueram: oculos ad te piissima virgo levavi, et tuo adiutorio virgo beata evasi pericula cuncta. Gaudeant alii de sua innocentia, alii letentur de meritorum suorum copia, alii de dei misericordia inmediate exultent: Tu mater mea, tu spes et solacium unicum vite mee. Cum totus de deo et de meipso despero: in te cogitando, te conmemorando, quasi de profundissimis tenebris reviviscit spiritus meus. Tu es gloriacio mea, salus honor et vita mea. Sed unde michi hoc 0 spes mea?
Nimirum quia multos habes dilectos filios, quos salvare poterit sua innocencia, quibus propria suppetunt bona opera, qui dicere possunt cum viro iusto: Neque umquam reprehendit me cor meum in omni vita mea. 0 meror et luctus cordis mei inmensus. Mater dulcissima, mater nostra, Mater inquam nostra singulariter qui miseri peccatores sumus: Tu scis quod tota vita mea est reprehensio pura. En respice super infirmum tuum. Non sum dignus vocari filius tuus. Fac michi sicut imi ex miseris egrotis tuis.
Recordare pia mater, quod matres suos fovere solent sollicicius egrotos, eisque conpati magis et diligenciorem adhibere curam. Tibi derelictus est pauper; orphano tu eris adiutrix. Tibi nota sunt vulnera mea mater pia. Jnfirmos tu visita, mortuos resuscita, et da mestis solacia. Accedant ad sapiende lumen, qui iuste et sancte vixerunt. Heu me.
Ego autem miser peccator, lacrimis totus perfusus, sub tuam proteccionem confugio, non audens ad presendam tante lucis nudus et egenus apparere; sed ad te matrem confugio. Tu spes mea, turris mea, in qua finem tocius salutis mee constitui. Si quod absit iudex iratus servum suum peccati reum dampnare voluerit, per manus tuas piissimas hoc faciat. Si autem ex gracia salvare decreverit, te mediante salutem michi mittere dignetur. Ego a te neque vivus neque mortuus, nec in prosperis nec in adversis umquam volo separari. Quinymmo si quod absit dei mei insanus ac reprobus factus oblivisci voluero, vere tui numquam obliviscar.
Te numquam dimittam. Memoria tua super mei et favum in ore meo indulcoratur. Facies in te exhylaratur, cor iocundatur, et tota virtus mea pariter exultat. Nec inmerito. Quociens enim ab uberibus consolationis tue satiatus sim, Tu pia nosti, que misero peccatori remedia salutis talia contulisti. Eya ergo advocata nostra surge pia, surge propitia, converte illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos, et placa tuum unigenitum a nobis totiens offensum.
Tu namque es reorum advocata; ideo accede propius, et pete pro nobis quesumus. Nichil enim tibi negare poterit, filius gratiosus tibi dilectus. 0 etema patris sapientia, ecce nunc in patrocinium meum coram te adduco illam tuam matrem dulcissimam, tibi eam presentans, me post tergum suum abscondens, oculos non audens levare ante faciem glorie tue, per ipsam cupiens exaudiri. Jpsam queso honora, ipsam venerare. Qualiter cum convenientia talem matrem poteris repellere? Quod si etiam millesies in die accesserit, repulsam non habebit.
Exaudi exaudi me domine propter tuam bonitatem et matris tue dilecte singularem honorem. Nam sicut te celesti patri ac genitori tuo advocatum exhibeo, sic tibi dilectam matrem ut meam exhibeo auxiliatricem, ut inperfectum meum eius suppleat grate et acceptabitis presentie magnitudo. Nunc igitur o preclara sapientia attende matrem gloriosam. Respice oculos huius dulcissime matris coram te pro nobis interpellantis, quibus te materno in gremio gestans tam placide intuebatur: Genas eius roseo colore perfusas, quibus faciem tuam delicatam materno affectu sibi sociavit. Ach quam felicia labia eius, quibus os tuum benedictum, oculos prefulgidos, ac singulos quosque nobilissimos artus creberrime perosculata fuit, blanda miscens interdum oscula verbis. Cerne manus has que tibi ministraverunt, ubera dulcissima ac felicissima que te lactaverunt.
O piissima dulcedo, ecce phas non est ut hec inspiciens et rememorans tante matri a te quidquam negetur que te dominum celi genuit lactavit fovit et ad incrementa usque perduxit. Reminiscere queso omnium servitiorum et exhibitionum que tuis in infantilibus annis ab ea recepisti, cum te in gremio infantem delicatum tenens, ocellos ridentes ad blandientem tibi matrem retorsisti, et brachiis delicatissimis tibi arridentem amplexatus fuisti, eamque pre cunctis tenerrime dilexisti. Omniumque dolorum recordare quos sub cruce stans in pectore suo materno pertulit, pio conpassionis affectu. Stabat namque iuxta crucem Jhesu mater eius. 0 verbum totius conpassionis. Quamvis enim o viscera mea ex intimis movere vos debeant dolores et afflictiones tam pii salvatoris in cruce pendentis: iure tamen singulari nobis qui aliquando peccatorum tenebris obvoluti, nunc autem adiutorio genitricis dei ad lucem reducti sumus, convenit tante matri iuxta crucem stanti et inmensum dolorem patientis filii in corde suo plenissime sustinenti, specialius quodammodo ac peculiarius conpati, ex medullis cordium nostrorum.
Per quam enim miseri continue consolamur, iustum valde est ut ei quoque patienti conpaciamur. Et licet ut dignum esset sibi conpati non possimus, saltem eius dolorem ad memoriam revocando, devotionem cordis nostri prout possumus fideliter excitemus. Magnitudinem luctus pie matris nobis ignotam, ex manifestis nobis doloribus velud a longe coniecturando inquiramus. Jnterroget igitur se unusquisque amator, si illud amabile quod intense amat ignominiose morti traditum videret, quantum ex hoc dolere contingeret, et quam vehementi conpassione moveretur; licet tale quid non amans in se minime perciperet. Hec pius animus revolvat, et ex hiis credibile nimis erit quidquid de eius dolore dici poterit, que pre cunctis mortalibus amavit, et doluit cum dilectum morte turpissima condempnatum vidit. O Maria quid cordis erat tibi, cum iuxta crucem stabas, et Jhesum benedictum fructum ventris tui sic suspensum cernebas?
Utique racio hoc dictat, experientia probat, vis amoris approbat, quod multum dolebas. Multum dolebas, quia multum diligebas. Si enim sola memoria passionis filii tui non nullos devotos ob magnam conpassionem quasi exanimes reddit, quid fecit crudelissime passionis presentia in ea que ipsum mundi salvatorem patientem generavit? Si hec memoria tantum fervet in corde peccatoris, O quantum estuabat in mente sanctissime matris. Virgo beata scimus, quanto quis expertus amoris dilectum suum fervendus diligit, et quanto dilecti presencia honorabilior et delectabilior, ac utilior sibi existit, tanto eius privado maiorem tristidam adducit. Sed vere et absque omni dubitacione credo, quod dilecti tui grata presenda in omni gratia cunctorum mortalium presentiam inconparabiliter excedebat.
Referat ergo nobis mater, si filium in tanta dilectione habuerit, ut ex eo letari potuerit vel edam tristari. Procedat nunc in medium, et taliter nobis respondeat, viva voce, corpore quidem absens, spiritu veropresens, et dicat: Qui me humilem ancillam ex gratia dignatus est in matrem eligere, ipse cor meum ardentissimo amore sibi constrinxerat, ut nusquam nisi de ipso et in ipso spiritus meus s ummam leticiam et tristitiam posset recipere. Nam in ipso cuncta possederam, eiusque dilectio erat michi totius orbis plena possessio. Anima mea ibi erat ribi Jhesus erat, magisque in eo quam in meipsa vivebam. Speciosum forma pre filiis hominum inspicere, erat cordis mei iocunditas; divinitatem eius contemplari, dulcis suavitas. Cogitare de eo, michi prestabat gaudium; de eo loqui, dulcissimum fuit solacium.
Verba ex eius t>re audire, suavissimum michi erat organum. Jpse cordis erat speculum, oculorum meorum spectaculum. Celestia simul et terrestria queque bona, sua michi presencia optata prebebat. Hunc igitur filium unigenitum, cordis mei thesaurum pretiosum, cum oculis elevatis, vidissem sic contemptibiliter in cruce cum latronibus suspensum, et doloribus mortis angustiatum: Ach quam intollerabilis michi hic aspectus erat, 0 quam lamentabilis et penosa hec michi visio fuit. Anima mea pre dolore cruciabatur, viscera materna sauciabantur, et conmoriebantur omnia ossa mea. Virtus omnis evanuit, sensus a me recessit, et calamitas me oppressit inmensa.
Oculos lacrimosos sursum levavi, dilectum meum suspensum vidi, nec sibi in aliquo solacium ferre potui. Respexi deorsum, et cum dolore inmenso vidi eos qui meum thesaurum rapuerant et tam crudeliter vexantes torquebant. 0 quantum anima mea in me angustiabatur, quam magno cruciabatur dolore. Corde privata eram, quia ipse michi cor abstulerat et simul secum crucifixum tenebat. Vocem pre clamore et eiulatu multo amiseram, quod vix loqui poteram. Defeci pre dolore, corrui pre merore.
Resumpto autem utcumque spiritu, in hec et similia verba prorumpebam: 0 gaudium et exultacio spiritus mei, lumen oculorum meorum, quondam te vidi cordis mei cum leticia et exultadone, nunc autem cum inmensa tristitia et merore. Heu heu quam miserabiliter te nunc pendentem intueor. 0 dimidium anime mee, 0 consolatio unica vite mee. Tolle queso tecum matrem mestissimam, quia mori valde cupio; vivere sine te amplius non potero. Non me fili dulcissime derelinquas, sed me tecum pariter accipias. 0 quis michi det ut ego moriar pro te.
0 dolores inconparabiles matris orbate, destitucio genitricis desolate. Mori etenim video in quo vita mea et tota salus mea consistit. Cumque hec et hiis similia verba tristia mater mestissima prosequitur, filius doloris sui ipsius quodammodo oblitus, matrem dulcissime consolabatur. Moriens et recedens me licentiavit, et discipulo quem singulariter diligebat reconmendavit. Cumque vocem filii loquentis cor maternum percepit, dolore vehementissimo estuare cepit, et gladius meroris pertransivit animam fidelissime matris. Levavi manus sursum pre cordis desiderio, tangere cupiens dilectum meum, ut vel sic dolori et amori melius consulere potuissem.
Cumque aliud solacium non haberem, sangwinem fumantem et ex vulneribus filii ad terram usque stillantem nimia cum aviditate deosculabar, in tantum ut facies matris de cruore filii occisi sangwinolenta redderetur. 0 si vidisses in hora illa lamentabili miseriam matris filio conpacientis, Dolorem filii matri condolentis, Matrem pro filio morituro merentem, Filium matrem desolatam dulciter consolantem: sine interno conpassionis vulnere hec audire et videre non potuisses. Tandem igitur post expiracionem filii, cum de cruce deponeretur, 0 quam affectuosissime brachia eius dependentia suscipiebam, et mortuum filium gremio materno colligebam. Affectu materno ipsum amplexabar. Rigabam lacrimis faciem mortui, et recentia vulnera frequentibus osculis leniebam. Res miseranda.
Vitam cordis mei intuebar, et ecce mortuus erat. Respexi iterum atque iterum, et non erat vox neque sensus. Loquebar ei, et non respondit michi. Rugiebam a gemitu cordis mei. Astabant namque qui michi mortuum meum, thesaurum meum, auferre et sepelire volebant. Tunc flebam et gemebam, et voces lamentabiles dabam.
Cor pre dolore concutiebatur, cum dilectum filium brachiis maternis constrictum avellere conabantur. Faciem meam lacrimosam ipsius vultui applicabam; faciem suam sepius inter manus accipiens, crebrius inspiciebam, et gemebam, quoniam amaritudine repleta. eram. Nec erat qui hec intueretur, et matri patienti non conpateretur. Demum post sepulturam filii, cum magno valde dolore reducta fui. Sed in eius resurrectione, cum ipsum tam gloriosum vidi, plenam consolationem recepi; et sic materia dolorum in materiam transiit spiritualium gaudiorum. Huc usque virginis verba.
Porro nos qui hec non sine gemitu et fletu audire potuimus, interrumpere sermonem tuum virgo mater cogit conpassionis nostre vehemencia et exuberantia tantarum lacrimarum, quibus tibi 0 virgo pia conpatimur ex intimis visceribus cordium nostrorum. 0 quam induratum est cor, quod tibi ex in timis non conpatitur; quam male exsiccati oculi, qui te sic flentem videntes, nequaquam queunt lacrimari; quam frigidum pectus, quod ex hiis non gemit. 0 utinam conmoriantur tecum simul etiam omnia ossa nostra. Benedicta brachia tua, inter que iam dilectum reclinatum video. Gene quoque rosifere matris felices, sangwineo colore vernantes. Pectus tuum maternum superbenedictum, tanti doloris contentivum, super quo iam oculis cordis video regem meum reclinatum.
0 reclinatorium aureum, pre cunctis thronis eburneis sedibusque deauratis preelectum, ad hanc horam servatum, ut auctorem vite subportet vita privatum. Sed quid dicam? En coram te mater piissima mente lacrimosa iam positus, te obsecro et adiuro in domino, ut michi tuum karissimum thesaurum, regem et dominum meum, pro me passum et mortuum, sub bac forma qua ipsum iam in gremio tuo sub crucis ligno pallidum et livore plenum meditacionis oculo intueor, prebeas, ut hoc ipsum quod est conpassionis et doloris, quod tibi corporaliter et presendaliter tunc concessum fuit tamquam matri, micbi saltem spiritualiter et memorialiter prout conpetit misero peccatori concedatur. Da michi salvatorem meum. Prebe quem diligo, quia expectare amplius non valeo. Suscipe nunc anima mea dilectum de dilecta, et dileccionis atque conpassionis affectuosissima ei prebe indicia.
0 dilecte my, salutare meum et liberator meus, amor meus, et gloriatio anime mee. Ecce nunc affectu fervidissimo, totus ab omnibus abstractus, omnibus viribus anime mee simul in unum collectis, ad te convertor, te attente intueor cum omni nisu et conamine, quantum umquam possibile fuit dilectum a dilecto amorose prospectari. En dilecte my, cordis mei tri clinium tibi soli servatum, et huic mundo clausum, ad hanc vocem reseratur, te suscipere cupiens per illapsum. Sinus omnium desideriorum meorum sic iam se ad te expandens dilatatur, veluti cum rosa ad gelu noctis clausa, ad solis radiosum splendorem se aperire festinat. Anima mea tota amore calens, brachia desideriorum suorum amplissime expandit, et tibi gratanter accurrit, ac inter cadentes lacrimas in amplexus ruit spirituales. Eya tota salus mea: et sic tali ignito vehementer desiderio, affectu fervidissimo te nunc inter brachia anime mee suscipio, te conplector, tibi unior, cum reverentia et laude et gratiarum actione: Te obsecrans per tua misericordie viscera, ut hanc mortem pretiosam frustrari in me non permittas, sed me nunc ad gratiam receptum tibi unias tam efficaciter, ut neque prospera nec adversa me a te umquam valeant separare.
Ecce oculi mei pallidam faciem tuam fixe intuentur; tota anima mea amore tuo resoluta, vulnera sangwine cruentata crebrius perosculatur, omnesque vires et potencie mee fructu passionis huius lacrimose pascuntur. Sub umbra namque illius quem dudum desiderabam nunc sedi, sed et fructus eius dulcis gutturi meo. Nec inmerito. Sunt etenim non nulli qui de vite sue gaudent puritate; alii de meritorum suorum presumunt multitudine, aut exerciciorum spiritualium inmensitate letantur. Ego autem quid? Vere tota spes et solacium meum ex tua dependet passione, ex meritorum tuorum magnitudine ac preciositate, et matris tue benignissima pietate, ut tu solus nosti qui paupertatem meam considerasti.
Et ideo hec dominice passionis recordacio michi est cordis in domicilio affectuose recondenda, et verbis ac operibus opitulante gracia prosequenda, et omni cum honore et reverencia magnificanda. 0 rex regum et dominus dominancium, quem sic mortificatum et miseriis afflictum, oculis fidei, pleno affectu anima mea iam amplectitur, concede michi ut et te gloriosum atque sublimen et super astra celi ad dexteram patris sedentem perhenniter videre mereatur. Sed et tu virgo beata, mater piissima, que iuxta crucem filii tui stetisti, et doloris eius vulnera in anima tua efficaciter persensisti, ac sangwinis eius aspergine rubricata fuisti, eique sola fidelitatem perfectam usque in finem servasti, et magno cum dolore a tumulo filii tui separata fuisti: Tibi hec omnia conpassionis vulnera pro singulari gloria ad memoriam revoco virgo pia. Et sicut nunc quoque affectu devoto inter cordis mei brachia 0 mater veneranda te excipio, et conpassionis te lacrimis associans per portam civitatis quondam Jherusalem ad domum reduco, preteritorum gestorum sub exemplo: sic o mater gracie in extreme hore examine anima mea et cunctorum eteme sapiencie discipulorum de corporis ergastulo exeundum a te suscipiantur, et ad illam celefetem Jherusalem cum gaudio perducantur. Arnen. Explicit primus liber.
Horologium Sapientiae (Clock of Wisdom) companion
A daily portion of stillness
Chosen Portion delivers one short contemplative reading and a guided moment of silence each day — the ascent, one step at a time.
Chosen Portion is the paced doorway into this collection: it portions the dense mystical treatises into one daily reading plus guided silence, exactly as the 14-day plan teaches.
- Daily bite-sized excerpts from the contemplative classics, never a wall of text
- A built-in timed stillness practice that grows from 2 minutes to 10
- Gentle progression through the tradition — the app remembers where you are on the ascent