Mother of God, heart of the world,
Mother of God, thou heart most pure,
Mother of God, heart of the Word,
We come to thee full of shame and weak of soul,
With body bowed down and bending the knee,
For, because of our ignorance,
Our hearts have greatly grown dark.
The Lord has let us wander in the paths of our spirit,
But now it is to thee that we come,
O Mother of Jesus;
Receive us as souls thirsting
For the joys of the unwaning morning,
And deign to renew in us a pure heart,
So that we may chant unto thee:
Rejoice, Ark of the Covenant with my soul!
Rejoice, Sealed Chest containing the Name of God!
Rejoice, Living Ship afloat on creation's mysteries!
Rejoice, Bridal Gift staining none with earthly vanities!
Rejoice, Throne whereon Life itself reposes!
Rejoice, living Resonance wherein chants a ray of uncreated Light!
Rejoice, interior Treasury of the riches of Grace!
Rejoice, mystic Tabernacle on the holy altar!
Rejoice, heavenly Temple whose liturgist is the Spirit!
Rejoice, Church ardently longing for espousal to Christ!
Rejoice, O Bride, Mother of continual prayer!
Part of an Akathist by the Romanian poet, Santu Tudor.