La Madonna Vasa Vasa

La Madonna Vasa Vasa

In Modica each Easter Day,
The faithful pilgrims watch and pray.
The big procession passes by
And brings a tear to every eye.

The Virgin, in her mourning black,
A heavy cloak upon her back,
Searches 'mid the narrow steeps,
For Jesus crucified she weeps.

For days her heart has been in pain,
She longs to see her Son again,
The Risen Christ has sought her too,
But He stays hidden from her view.

Then, as she scours the winding streets,
Her Blessed Son at last she meets.
He wears a robe of royal red,
With rays of glory round His head.

Her mourning cloak is cast away,
Replaced with blue and gold array.
Enraptured, they embrace and kiss,
Was ever triumph such as this!

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