Por el Rastro de la Sangre
Historia
Esto muy especial Alabado es cantado durante Santo Viernes procesión desde el Morada haste el Calvario de la Cruzes. El intensa descripción del Pasión es de partir los "dolores y penas" y el descripción del pasaje al calvario que Jesús entrenta. De la profundidad de esta pasaje es mejor entendido por el palabras "la herida de sus costado sea mi eternal habitación" como para vivir con esto sacrificio.
Por el rastro de la sangre
que Jesucristo derrama.
camina la virgin pura
en una fresca manaña.
Como era tan de manaña,
a la hora que caminaba
las companas de Belen
solas tocaban el alba.
Ya se encurntra con San Juan
y de esta manera le habla:
“?No has pasado por aquí
el hijo de mis entrañas?”
“Por aquí paso, Señora,
antes que el gallo cantara;
cinco mil azotes lleva
en sus sagradas
espaldas.
“Unas cruz lleva en sus
hombros
de Madera muy pesada;
tres clavos lleva en sus manos
con los que ha de ser clavado.“
“Y una corona de espinas,
con que ha de ser coronado;
padeciendo por el hombre
mi Jesus cruciificado.”
“Soga gruesa en garganta
que los Judíos le estiraba,”
cada tiron que le daban,
mis Jesus se arrodillaba.”
“Mi Jesús crucificado
que por mi estás de esa suerte,
has que me valga
la muerte
la sangre que has derramado.”
“La herida de sus costado
sea mi eternal habitacíon,
válgame ya expiar
su cruz, su merte y passion.”
Válgame, el Padre
amoroso
el la postrera agonía,
los Dolores de María
y martirios de su esposo.
El que esta passion cantare
todos los viernes del año
saca un anima de penas
a la suya del pecado.
Along the Trail of Blood
History
This very special Alabado is sang during Holy Friday's procession from the Morada to the cross of calvary. The very intense description of the Passion is a sharing of the "pains and sorrows" and the description of the passage to calvary that Jesus faced. The depth of this passage is best understood by the pharasing "The wound at his side Should be my eternal habitation" as to live within this sacrafice.
Along the trail of blood
Which Jesus Christ was shedding,
traveled his mother, the Virgin Mary
One cold and chilled morning.
Since the day was just beginning
At the hour she was walking,
Only the bells of Bethlehem
Were ringing in the morning.
She encountered St. John,
And this what she had to say,
“Has he not passed by here,
Jesus, my precious son, today?”
“He most certainly did, my dear lady,
Before the cock woke the day;
Five thousand lashes lay
On his sacred shoulder as he
passed this way.”
“He carried a cross upon his
shoulders,
Of very heavy wood I should say;
Three nails he held in his hand,
Which will be used on him today”
“He also carried a crown of thorns,
to be used for coronation;
Suffering for all mankind,
My dear Jesus, in crucifixion.”
“A thick rope around his throat
The Jews continued pulling,
And every pull was so unkind,
On his knees he continued falling.”
“My Jesus crucified
Suffering for me,
I prayed that I may be worthy of
death
For the blood you have shed for me.”
“The wound at his side,
Should be my eternal habitation,
grant that I may make amends for
his cross, his death and his passion.”
Forgive me, my God and beloved
Father,
For your humbling agony,
the pains and sorrows of Mary
And the suffering of her husband.
He who recites this passion,
every Friday of the year,
Releases a soul from affliction
And prevents sin from coming near.