Ideal World

⌈ D i ē s Ī r a e ⌋

The day of wrath, that day will dissolve the world in ashes, David being witness along with the Sibyl.

How great will be the quaking, when the Judge will come, investigating everything strictly.

The trumpet, scattering a wondrous sound through the sepulchres of the regions, will summon all before the throne.

Death and nature will marvel, when the creature will rise again, to respond to the Judge.

The written book will be brought forth, in which all is contained, from which the world shall be judged.

When therefore the Judge will sit, whatever lies hidden will appear, nothing will remain unpunished.

What then will I, poor wretch that I am, say? Which patron will I entreat, when even the just may only hardly be sure?

King of fearsome majesty, Who freely savest those that are to be saved, save me, O font of mercy.

Remember, merciful God, that I am the cause of Thy way, lest Thou lose me in that day.

Seeking me, Thou sattest tired, Thou redeemedst me, having suffered the Cross let not so much hardship be in vain.

Just Judge of vengeance, make a gift of remission before the day of reckoning.

I sigh, like the guilty one, my face reddens in guilt. Spare the supplicating one, O God.

Thou who absolvedst Mary, and heardest the robber, gavest hope to me, too.

My prayers are not worthy, but do Thou, who art good, graciously grant that I not be burned up by the everlasting fire.

Grant me a place among the sheep, and take me out from among the goats, setting me on the right side.

Once the cursed have been silenced, sentenced to acrid flames. Call Thou me with the blessed.

Humbly kneeling and bowed I pray, my heart crushed as ashes, take care of my end.

Tearful will be that day, on which from the glowing embers will arise the guilty man who is to be judged. Then spare him, O God.