Quant voi la flor novele
Florir en la praele,
Lors chant chancon novele,
De la virge pucele,
Qui douo lait de sa mamele
Le roi alaita
Qui de sa char digne et belle
Touz nos rachata.

When I see the new flower
Flower in the meadow,
Then I sing a new song
To the virgin maiden,
Who gives milk from her breast
To feed the King
Who gives his body, fair and worthy,
To redeem us all.

Maiden, worth and pure,
From whom all good comes,
Who is without sin; I pray you care for me:
To your dear Son assure me
Through that covenant
That certain joy in Heaven
May be granted.

Lady, Holy Mary,
Full of grace, hear us,
Never forget us,
That in this mortal life
We may deserve
That in your company
We may come.

Flower of mercy,
Attune me to your Son,
Tune so well the string
That it make no discord,
That the Devil may not move
To untune me,
That I may be in harmony
In tune with God.

Mary, sweet Mother,
Never harsh,
The King’s daughter and mother,
And you bore your father;
Now I pray you, sweetest mother,
Full of pity,
That God who is our father
Cleanse us from sin.