A song for Lent
The Church is now roughly halfway through Lent.
I thought it appropriate, then, to translate a Latin hymn some might hear at their churches during this time.
The piece is called “Parce, Domine.” The hymn’s text seems to be loosely based upon an antiphon traditionally prescribed for the distribution of ashes on Ash Wednesday.
I thought it would be worthwhile, as we are in the midst of Lent, to give my own translation of the hymn.1
First things first, I’ll begin with the refrain.
Parce, Domine, parce populo tuo, ne in aeternum irascaris nobis.
Spare, oh Lord, spare your people, lest You be angry at us forever.
That’s simple enough, no? Worth pointing out is the emotional weight of repeating the word “parce,” translated above as “spare.” Repeating a word in that manner is certainly emphatic — emphasizing that this is a prayer asking for pardon. Repetition like this can also create the effect of someone calling out in emotional distress, in a heightened state of anxiety — fitting for a somber song that begs for mercy.
The hymn has a total of five verses. Many recordings online, however, only feature two or three of the five.
Let’s take a look at all five verses one-by-one.
#1. Flectamus iram vindicem,
Ploremus ante Judicem;
Clamemus ore supplici,
Dicamus omnes cernui:Let us soften the retributive wrath,
Let us lament before the Judge;
Let us call with a begging mouth,
Lo, let us all say:
The first line is interesting. It seems to me there are multiple plausible ways to interpret the Latin. The verb “Flectamus” means something like “Let us bend,” meaning in this context we’re seeking to bend, as it were, the divine wrath, to turn His wrath away from us.
The verse ends with a lead-in to the refrain, calling on “us all” to say, “Spare us, oh Lord, spare your people.” It’s a call for everyone to ask God for mercy.
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Now for the second verse:
#2. Nostris malis offendimus
Tuam, Deus, clementiam.
Effunde nobis desuper,
Remissor, indulgentiam.By our evils we have offended,
Oh God, your clemency.
To us pour out from on high,
Oh forgiving one, your pardon.
The first line could also be translated as “by our evils we offend.” It could be either the perfect tense, talking about something done in the past, or the present tense, talking about something that happens.
The word “Remissor” is an interesting one. I translate it above as “oh forgiving one.” It’s derived from the verb “remitto, remittere, remisi, remissum” — meaning “to send back, to remit, to relax.” It’s a word that in Church Latin is often used to mean “to forgive.”
I especially like the word order of “tuam, Deus, clementiam.” It’s intentionally jumbled in a poetic way, as it would be more natural to keep the adjective, “tuam,” closer to its noun, “clementiam.” This altered, more poetic word order seems more emphatic to me — as though we are calling out to God spontaneously, interrupting ourselves (as it were) to do so.
Let’s look at the third verse.
#3. Dans tempus acceptabile,
Da lacrimarum rivulis
Lavare cordis victimam
Quam laeta adurat caritas.Granting the acceptable time,
Grant that, with streams of tears
We may wash the sacrificial victim of our heart,
The victim which happy charity burns up.
The phrase “tempus acceptabile,” meaning “the acceptable time,” is a reference to a phrase out of St. Paul’s epistles: “Behold, now is the acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation” (2 Cor 6:2).
The hymn “Parce Domine” uses the phrase “tempus acceptabile,” a quote from St. Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians.
Moreover, this phrase is part of the Epistle reading for the First Sunday of Lent (in the Traditional Latin Mass), which is 2 Cor 6:1-10. So the hymn is echoing one of the readings the Church selected for Lent.
The grammar is a bit odd in lines two and three of this verse. A more literal translation is something like “grant by streams of tears to wash …”. But that doesn’t read as well in English, as the grammar leaves it unclear as to who’s doing the washing. So I modified it slightly in my translation.
The hymnist describes “charity” as if it were a fire that burns up the sacrificial offering. The offering being burned up is an offering of the heart.
In other words, we pray that our hearts may be cleansed, so they may then be offered to God. May our hearts be pure, so they can be a worthy sacrifice.
On to verse four.
#4. Audi, benigne Conditor,
Nostras preces cum fletibus
In hoc sacro jejunio
Fusas quadragenario.Listen, benign Creator,
To our prayers, poured out
Alongside tears,
In this holy fast of 40 days.
This verse echoes a different hymn, attributed to Pope St. Gregory the Great, that’s sung at Sunday Vespers during Lent. The “Parce Domine” alludes to that hymn in this verse by borrowing several phrases from it — including the opening line, “Audi, benigne Conditor.”
The word order in the Latin is very different from what we’re used to in English. That’s why the English translation above doesn’t line up nicely line-by-line with the Latin.
One neat feature: the word “fusas,” meaning “poured” or “poured out,” is surrounded by the phrase “in this holy fast of 40 days.” In other words: the pouring out of prayers is “inside” the 40 days of Lent. This is what classicists would called embedded word order — the word order reinforces the literal meaning. We are pouring out prayers in the season Lent, and the word for pouring is in the words for “this holy fast of 40 days.”
Now let’s take a look at the fifth and final verse:
#5. Scrutator alme cordium,
Infirma tu scis virium;
Ad te reversis exhibe
Remissionis gratiam.Kind examiner of hearts,
You know the weak parts of our abilities;
To those who have returned to You, do show
The grace of forgiveness.
Here the hymn address God as “Scrutator alme cordium” — the “kind searcher of hearts” or “kind examiner of hearts.” Here we have on the one hand an allusion to God’s role as judge, and on the other hand an appeal to His kindness. We then acknowledge our weakness, and ask God to forgive us.
One translation I found online apparently renders the word “virium” as “of men.” Unless there’s some alternate form unbeknownst to me, that’s a mistake. The word that would mean “of men” is “virorum,” not “virium.” Whoever did that translation seems to have confused the genitive plural of “vir,” Latin for “man,” with the genitive plural of “vis,” meaning “power,” “violence” or “force.”
We see in this verse the word “remissionis,” meaning “forgiveness” or “pardon.” Up above I discussed in one of the earlier verses the use of the related word, “remissor.”
A photo I took of line art in the Fr. Lasance Missal, near the Ash Wednesday entry.
It’s easy as a translator to get weighed down in particular poeticisms and tricky grammatical constructions, and miss the bigger picture. To address that risk of getting caught in the weeds, I find it helpful to put together a loose summary or paraphrase — something that gets at the gist of what the text is saying in ordinary English. So below is my loose summary of what each verse is saying:
Verse #1: Let us mourn our sins, call out to God in prayer, and avert His wrath.
Verse #2: We’ve offended You, oh God. Show us your mercy.
Verse #3: Give us the gift of tears, so we can give You our hearts as a pure offering.
Verse #4: Listen to our prayers as we fast for 40 days.
Verse #5: You know our weaknesses. Please show us forgiveness.
I hope all of this is interesting or helpful to you in some way. May all readers have a blessed and fruitful Lent.
Thank you for reading!