[As a rood I was raised up]; a royal King I bore,
45 The Lord of heavenly legions. I allowed myself never to bend.
Dark nails through me they drove; so that dastardly scars are upon me,
Wounds wide open; but not one of them dared I to harm.
They cursed and reviled us together. I was covered all over with blood,
That flowed from the Savior’s side when his soul had left the flesh.
50 Sorrowful the sights I have seen on that hill,
Grim-visaged grief: the God of mankind I saw
And his frightful death. The forces of darkness
Covered with clouds the corpse of the Lord,