Santiago
Tenebrae
GENRE
(Beate, qui habitant in domo tua
Domine, In saecula saeculorum)
The road climbs through changing land, northern rains fall on the deepening green of the slopes of the valley
Storms break the summer’s heat; at Foncebadon a pass can be lost in one night, to the snow
The road climbs for days through the highlands of Bierzo to the grassland and rocks of the Valcarce valley
White broom and scrub-oak, laburnum and gorse mark the bare hills beside the road
At O Cebreiro, mountains
The road follows the ridgetop
By meadows of fern, by fiеlds of rye
By Fonfria del Camino, by Triacastela
Towns arе shadows
The road leaves behind
It moves over the slate hills
Palas do Rei. Potomarin
The names are shadows
Then, from the stream at Lavacolla
To the foot of Monte de Gozo
A morning;
From the foot of Monte de Gozo
To the summit of Monte de Gozo
The road climbs
Before the longed-for final descent
To Santiago
Herr Santiagu
Grot Sanctiagu
Eultreya esuseya
Deius aia nos
Ver redit optatum
Cum gaudio
Flore decoratum
Purpureo;
Aves edunt cantus
Quam dulciter
Cantus est amoenus
Totaliter
Jacobo dat parium
Omnis mundus gratis
Ob cuius remedium
Miles pietatis
Cunctorum presidium
Est ad vota satis
O beate Jacobe
Virtus nostra vere
Nobis hostes remove
Tuos ac tuere
Ac devotos adibe
Nos tibi placere
Jacobo propicio
Veniam speramus
Et quas ex obsequio
Merito debemus
Patri tam eximio
Dignes laudes demus
At the Western edge of the world
We pray for our sins to fall from us
As chains from the limbs of penitents
We have walked out of the lives we had
And will return to nothing, if we live
Changed by the journey, face and soul alike
We have walked out of our lives
To come to where the walls of heaven
Are thin as a curtain, transparent as glass
Where the Apostle spoke the holy words
Where in death he returned, where God is close
Where saints and martyrs mark the road
Santiago, primus ex apostolis
Defender of pilgrims, warrior for truth
Take from our backs the burdens of this life
What we have done, who we have been;
Take them as fire takes the cloth
They cast into the sea at Finisterre
Holy St James, great St. James
God help us now and evermore
Domine, In saecula saeculorum)
The road climbs through changing land, northern rains fall on the deepening green of the slopes of the valley
Storms break the summer’s heat; at Foncebadon a pass can be lost in one night, to the snow
The road climbs for days through the highlands of Bierzo to the grassland and rocks of the Valcarce valley
White broom and scrub-oak, laburnum and gorse mark the bare hills beside the road
At O Cebreiro, mountains
The road follows the ridgetop
By meadows of fern, by fiеlds of rye
By Fonfria del Camino, by Triacastela
Towns arе shadows
The road leaves behind
It moves over the slate hills
Palas do Rei. Potomarin
The names are shadows
Then, from the stream at Lavacolla
To the foot of Monte de Gozo
A morning;
From the foot of Monte de Gozo
To the summit of Monte de Gozo
The road climbs
Before the longed-for final descent
To Santiago
Herr Santiagu
Grot Sanctiagu
Eultreya esuseya
Deius aia nos
Ver redit optatum
Cum gaudio
Flore decoratum
Purpureo;
Aves edunt cantus
Quam dulciter
Cantus est amoenus
Totaliter
Jacobo dat parium
Omnis mundus gratis
Ob cuius remedium
Miles pietatis
Cunctorum presidium
Est ad vota satis
O beate Jacobe
Virtus nostra vere
Nobis hostes remove
Tuos ac tuere
Ac devotos adibe
Nos tibi placere
Jacobo propicio
Veniam speramus
Et quas ex obsequio
Merito debemus
Patri tam eximio
Dignes laudes demus
At the Western edge of the world
We pray for our sins to fall from us
As chains from the limbs of penitents
We have walked out of the lives we had
And will return to nothing, if we live
Changed by the journey, face and soul alike
We have walked out of our lives
To come to where the walls of heaven
Are thin as a curtain, transparent as glass
Where the Apostle spoke the holy words
Where in death he returned, where God is close
Where saints and martyrs mark the road
Santiago, primus ex apostolis
Defender of pilgrims, warrior for truth
Take from our backs the burdens of this life
What we have done, who we have been;
Take them as fire takes the cloth
They cast into the sea at Finisterre
Holy St James, great St. James
God help us now and evermore
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