Lord! You were behind the window

human and sad as dusk approached;

and how that woman was bewailing

your funeral!

Her eyes were Holy Thursday,

two black grains of embittered light!

With stony drops of blood and tears

she nailed your cross!

Impious woman! Since you departed,

Lord, she has never returned to the Jordan,

in red waters she exposes her flesh,

and to the vile Jew she sells bread!