This is a loose translation of the
hymn. It's purpose is simply to give
the English sense of the words.

Dhìt Pìleat gu bàs Thu,
Britheamh ceàrr bha gun bhuaidh;
Cha chum ionnlad a làmh e
'N taobh sàbhailt Là Luan.

Pilate condemned you to death,
A wayward judge without power;
The hand-washing will not keep him
on the safe side on the last day.

Crann-ceusaidh na nàire
Spàrr a ghràisg air mo luaidh;
‘S ann a ghlac Thu le fàilte
Inneal-shàbh'laidh an t-sluaigh.

The cross of shame
was thrust by the mob on my beloved;
You accepted and welcomed
the instrument of salvation of the people.

Na shil Thu san fhallas,
Thug e t' fhallaineachd bhuat;
Thuit m' eudail gu talamh -
Bha an t-eallach cho cruaidh.

The sweat that poured from you,
robbed you of your health;
My beloved fell to the ground
The weight was so heavy.

Bha cridhe do mhàthar
An impis sgàineadh le truas;
Nuair a choinnich i a Macan,
Mar an sneachda bha a gruaidh.

Your mother's heart
Almost breaking with sadness;
When she met her beloved Son,
Her face white as snow.

Nuair a shaoil leo nach ruigeadh
Tu 'n t-ionad bha bhuap,
Chuir iad Simon a dh' aindeoin
Fo eallach mo luaidh.

When they thought you wouldn't reach
the place that was distant,
They placed Simon, regardless,
under the burden of my beloved.

Bheronica cheanail,
Ghlan i 'm fallas dhed ghruaidh;
Lean do dhealbh ris an anart,
Fhuair a carthantachd duais.

Forlorn Veronica
She dried the sweat from your face;
Your image was imprinted on the towel,
Her kindness was rewarded.

An fhuil a sileadh od chreuchdan
H-uile ceum dhe na ghluais,
Aig laigead do chuisle
Gun do thuit Thu ath-uair.

The blood pouring from your wounds
Each step that you took,
With the weakness of your heart
you fell the second time.

Bha mnathan a bhaile
‘S iad a gal leis an truas;
Gun d' chuir Thu nam fair' iad
Mar a thachradh dhan t-sluagh.

The women of the city
They were crying with sadness;
You made them aware
what would happen to the people.

Thuit Iosa a-rithist
‘S an t-slighe cho buan,
Is cudthrom an fhiodha
‘N dèis a spionnadh thoirt bhuaith .

Jesus fell again
the way was never-ending
The weight of the wood
had sapped his strength

Nuair a dhìrich Thu 'n cnocan
A bha Chrois ri cur suas,
Gun do rùisgeadh do cholainn
Ann am follais an t-sluaigh.

When you climbed the hill
on which the cross was to be raised,
Your body was stripped
in the presence of the people.

Rinn tàirnean do cheangal
Ris a Chrann bha gun bhuaidh;
Chan fhaigh Thu bàs cadail,
Is do leaba cho cruaidh.

The nails fastened you
to the cross that was without comfort;
You will not experience the sleep of death
Your bed is so hard.

Bha n t-Uan air a ruighe
Gus na ruith an treas uair;
Chrom E cheann air a bhroilleach,
‘S thug E mallachd far sluaigh.

The lamb was outstretched
until the third hour;
He bowed his head on his breast,
and he took the curse from the people.

Rinn fir a bha 'n toirt ort
Do chorp thoirt a-nuas:
Rug Moire na glacaibh
Air a Macan ‘s E fuar.

Men who respected you
took your body down:
Mary clasped to herself
her beloved Son, who was dead.

Chaidh còmhlan de chàirdean
Gad chàradh san uaigh;
Bidh do cholainn a tàmh ann
Gu Là Càsga nam buadh.

A company of friends went
and placed you in the tomb;
Your body will rest there
until Easter Day of victory.