Vexilla Regis (latim)

The banners of the King advance;
The mystery of the Cross shines forth,
[On which the Creator of flesh,
Hung by the crossbeam, was suspended.]

With pierced hands and feet
And side, bearing the marks,
By the grace of redemption
Here the victim was sacrificed.

[By the cruel point of the lance,
He was wounded even more,]
So that He might cleanse us from sin,
Water and blood flowed.

What David once foretold
Is fulfilled by faithful song,
Telling to the nations:
God has reigned from the tree.

O beautiful and shining tree,
Adorned with the purple of the King,
Chosen as worthy wood
To touch such holy limbs.

Blessed is the one whose arms
Bore the price of the world:
The balance made of His body
[Carried off the spoils of hell.]

You pour forth fragrance from the bark,
You conquer with the taste of nectar,
Joyful with abundant fruit,
You applaud with noble triumph.

Hail, altar, hail, victim,
Of the glory of the Passion,
By which life endured death
And by death gave life.

Hail, O Cross, our only hope,
In this time of the Passion!
[or: In the glory of this triumph!]
Increase grace for the pious,
And forgive the sins of the guilty.

May every spirit praise You,
O Trinity, fount of salvation:
[Whom through the mystery of the Cross
You save, support through the ages.] Amen.