Swete Sone
Mediæval Bæbes Lyrics


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Swete sone, reu on me
And breste out of thy bondes
For me thinket that I see
Thoru Bothen thin bondes
Nailes driven into the tree
So reufuliche thu honges
Now is betre that I flee
And lett alle these londes

Swete sone, thy faire face
Droppet all on blode
And thy body downward
Is bounded to the rode
How may thy modress hert
Tholen so swete fode
That blessed was of alle born
And best of alle gode

How may thy modress hert
Tholen so swete fode
That blessed was of alle born
And best of alle gode

Swete sone, reu on me
And bring me out of this live
For me thinket that I see
Thy deth, it neyhet swithe
Thy feet nailed to the tree
Now may I no more thrive




For this werld withouten thee
Ne shall me maken blithe

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Mediæval Bæbes's song 'Swete Sone' depict the suffering of Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ, as she watches her son on the cross. She pleads with her son to show mercy on her and break free of his bonds. She witnesses her son's agony as she sees the nails driven into the tree, and she cannot take the pain of watching her son suffer. She asks her son how she can bear to see him go through such agony as he is the Son of God and the best of all good.


Mary's heart is breaking as she sees her son's suffering, even though he is the one to save humanity. She wonders how she can bear to watch her son go through these trials, having been blessed among all women. She asks her son to release her from this life as she sees his death approaching. She sees that his feet are nailed to the tree and knows that she cannot carry on without him.


Overall, the song depicts the pain and sorrow that Mary must have experienced during the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. It is a touching portrait of the love between a mother and a son, even in the face of tremendous suffering.


Line by Line Meaning

Swete sone, reu on me
Dear son, have mercy on me


And breste out of thy bondes
Break out of your chains


For me thinket that I see
Because I believe that I see


Thoru Bothen thin bondes
Through both of your bonds


Nailes driven into the tree
Nails driven into the tree


So reufuliche thu honges
You hang so pitifully


Now is betre that I flee
Now it's better for me to flee


And lett alle these londes
And leave all these lands


Swete sone, thy faire face
Dear son, your beautiful face


Droppet all on blode
Dripping with blood


And thy body downward
And your body hanging down


Is bounded to the rode
Is bound to the cross


How may thy modress hert
How can your mother's heart


Tholen so swete fode
Endure such sweet food


That blessed was of alle born
That was blessed above all others born


And best of alle gode
And the best of all good


Swete sone, reu on me
Dear son, have mercy on me


And bring me out of this live
And bring me out of this life


For me thinket that I see
Because I believe that I see


Thy deth, it neyhet swithe
Your death is approaching quickly


Thy feet nailed to the tree
Your feet nailed to the tree


Now may I no more thrive
Now I can no longer prosper


For this werld withouten thee
For this world without you


Ne shall me maken blithe
Will not make me happy




Contributed by Ruby S. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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