Ach, Gott, es hat mich ganz verderbt

Here is my revised and supplemented translation of the hymn "Ach, Gott, es hat mich ganz verderbt" (L. Laurentii, 1700), from the author's Evangelia melodica for Epiphany III, first hymn. The version translated by me in 2022 lacks stanzas 6-7 and 9, and was lightly revised in a softening direction, perhaps by Freylinghausen. I restore here the most obviously altered lines along with the three stanzas.

Mel.: Herr Jesu Christ, du höchstes Gut.

ALAS, my God, the leprosy

Of sin which I inherit

From Adam fills me utterly!

And how shall I repair it?

My wretchedness is far too great,

Thine eyes alone can penetrate

My heart’s profound corruption.

2 My mind is utterly astray,

With darkest gloom surrounded;

My will from Thee is turned away

In wickedness unbounded;

My appetites are all inclined

To carry out the lust I find

Up from my heart arising.

3 Who can th’ abomination tell

Which body_and soul defileth?

With Adam's plague abominable 

The world corrupted smileth--

Not one in thousand thinks of this,

And so in death and judgment is,

And to th' abyss must plummet.

4 In true remorse I come to Thee

And from my heart implore Thee:

My dear Lord Jesus, kindly free

From pain this soul before Thee

Lest by its burden sore oppressed,

Be stripped of life and strength and rest,

And in the mire be sinking!

5 To whom but Thee, Lord, shall I cry,

My Life and my Salvation?

Thou only canst the cure supply,

And give me restoration,

And cleanse me from my leprosy,

That innocence my robe may be

And sin be washed completely!

6 Who feels not sin within his heart,

Nor to Thy feet comes kneeling,

Doth play a penitential part--

A hypocrite's appealing;

He mocketh God with false deceit

And thinks his duty is complete

When he has made confession.

7 But he who feels infernal doom,

And 'gainst his sinning straineth

(Which almost doth his life consume),

And vict'ry never gaineth--

He as a worm doth curl and bend,

And humbly doth his case commend

To Thee with tears unceasing.

8 Thou, Jesus, knowest my distress,

And canst, if Thou art willing,

This mortal stain in me redress

And all my grief be stilling;

Yea, Lord, Thou wilt, I firmly trust,

Nor shalt Thou leave me in the dust,

For so Thy wounds assure me!

9 Lord Jesus Christ, deliver me,

Nor leave me ruined lying!

For me Thou borest agony--

Let me to sin be dying,

And in the world uprightly live,

That I may ever praises give

To Thee in heaven's dwelling.

Translation © 2022, 2026 Matthew Carver.

GERMAN

tba