In You I begin, trusting in You, and in You I will finish. I open my mouth—You fill it. I am earth before You, and You are the farmer: sow Your voice in me, You who sowed Yourself in the womb of my mother.
Refrain: Praise to You, my Lord, and through You to Your Father on the day of Your birth.
All the chaste women marvel at me—the daughters of the Hebrews and the virgins, the daughters of nobles. Because of You the daughter of the poor is envied, and because of You the daughter of the weak is the object of jealousy. Who gave You to me?
Son of the Rich One, who rejected the wombs of rich women, who drew You toward the poor? Joseph was needy and I was destitute, yet Your merchants carried and brought gold into the house of the poor.
When she saw the Magi, her melodies multiplied because of their offerings: 'Look—Your worshipers surround me, and Your offerings encircle me.' Blessed is the Child who made His mother a lyre for His voices.
As the lyre looks to its master, my mouth looks to You. Let Your will move the tongue of Your mother. Since I learned in You a new conception, let my mouth learn in You, new Child, a new song of praise.
If obstacles are no obstacles to You, since difficult things are easy for You—a womb conceived You without union and without seed—then it is easy for my mouth also to bear fruit and multiply Your great praise.
Look: I am oppressed and wronged, yet I am joyful. My ears are filled with reproach and mockery, but it is little to me. However many thousands of troubles I endure, one consolation from You can drive them away.
Because of You, my Son, I am not diminished; my face is unveiled. Though I am accused, I conceived and gave birth to the Truth who vindicates me. If Tamar was vindicated through Judah, how much more shall I be vindicated through You?
David Your father sang a song about You before You came, that the gold of Sheba would be brought to You. The song he sang now stands openly fulfilled in deed: myrrh and gold are heaped before You.
The hundred and fifty songs that David sang were seasoned in You, for every saying of prophecy needed Your sweetness. Without Your salt, every wisdom is tasteless.