Staggering and stumbling
On the rocky Via Dolorosa,
My hands wearily and weakly
Cling to the splintered cross;
A Roman soldier lashes me
With a whirling crackling whip,
Which like a wildcat’s claw
Rips and tears my poor flesh;
My knees buckle and I fall,
My battered head striking the
Stubborn and unforgiving ground,
Forcefully thrusting the thorns
Deeper into my wounded skull;
My soul silently suffers
In the dark night of the cross —
And yet I’m doing this all for you,
Just for you, because I love you,
So dearly, so deeply, so divinely.