Inscriptions

The surviving poetic heritage of St. Gregory the Theologian includes 408 poems, most of which belong to the last period of his life (383-389). Saint Gregory wrote in an archaic language, used traditional meters for ancient Greek poetry, based on the alternation of long and short syllables (hexameter, elegiac distich, iambic, iambic trimeter and pentameter), and often imitated Homer, Euripides and other ancient poets. Poems by St. Gregory the Theologian are devoted to various aspects of Christian life, they reflect most of the theological themes discussed in other works of the saint. Corpus of poetic works of St. Gregory is divided into “Theological Poems”, “Historical Poems”, “Epitaphs”, “Inscriptions”. The cycle “Inscriptions” (94 verses) contains moral instructions to monks (hypocrisy is exposed), admonitions to those who spread slander (“because of one bad thing, do not consider everyone bad”), who indulge in luxury at the tombs of martyrs, denunciations of tomb robbers, etc. Contents 1. To the builder of the house, Gigantius 2. Sigantius the hermit 3. To the two Eupraxia 4. Filagrius, for his patience 5. Other 6. Other 7. To the sinister 13. Other 14. Other 10. To the lovers 11. Other 12. Other 13. Other 14. Other 15. About virgins 16. Other 17. To the virgin 18. Other 19. To the monks 20. Other 21. One should not slander the living purely because others fall 22. Other 23. Other 24. About marriage 25. And there should be sedateness in a joke 26. On those who indulge in luxury at the tombs of martyrs 27. Other 28. Other 29. Other 30. To the church, which from the idol's church was turned by Saint Gregory into the church of God 31. Against those who rob the coffins (1) 32. Other (2) 33. Other (3) 34. Other (4) 35. Other (5) 36. Other (6) 37. Other (7) 38. Other (8) 39. Other (9) 40. Other (10) 41. Other (11) 42. Other (12) 43. Other (13) 44. Other (14) 45. Other (45) 46. Other (16) 47. Other 48. Other 49. Other (17) 50. Other (18) 51. Other (19) 52. Other (20) 53. Other (21) 54. Other (22) 55. Other (23) 56. Other (24) 57. Other (25) 58. Other (26) 59. Other (27) 60. Other (28) 61. Other (29) 62. Other (30) 63. Other (31) 64. Other (32) 65. Other (33) 66. Other (34) 67. Other (35) 68. Other (36) 69. Other (37) 70. Other (38, 39) 71. Other 72. Other (40) 73. Other (41) 74. Other (42) 75. Other (43) 76. Other (44) 77. Other 78. Other (45) 79. Other (46) 80. Other (47) 81. Other (49) 82. Other (50) 83. Other (51) 84. Other (52) 85. Other (53) 86. Other (54) 87. Other 88. Other 89. Other (55) 90. Other (56) 91. Other (57) 92. Other (58) 93. Other (59) 94. Other (60) 1. To the house builder, Gigantius Another built Babylonian walls along which chariots could ride; another erected the Egyptian pyramids, and someone crossed the sea on foot and transported well-equipped Thracian ships overland. And I, having shaken the hills and small hillocks with a gigantic hand, have a garden watered with water. I walked with joy, hoping to extinguish the flame of desire that I had to enjoy your divine conversation. When I clearly saw that the reservoir was waterless, because there was no source for me to drink, 5. then he returned with great sorrow, having acquired one thing - what exactly? - great thirst. Pray, however, that I may meet with you another time and extinguish the great flame, taking from you and communicating to you some divine thoughts. This Eupraxius is not among the latter, but neither is the other; both have one name and one heart; both were excellent servants of Priest Gregory. They are still serving him now, and they will be there. 4. Filagrius, for his patience Among the ancients, Epictetus was in great glory, and Anaxarchus in great glory. One, when they crushed him, did not pay attention to the glory; the other, when his hands were being pushed in the mortar, shouted: knock out the bag. 5. But you, Philagrios, endure long-term suffering in a body that is devoured by illness, and your soul is never affected by this. If your body, Philagrius, were not so painful, then I would not have noticed all the strength of your virtue. And now it has been destroyed by disease, and you are unshakable. How fair it is that God sends sickness to the good instead of medicine. The disease devoured you, Filagrius, and closed your eyes, but your soul became brighter from suffering. Although I know, most excellent one, that you are versed in all wisdom, I cannot say about anything else that it is more excellent than this. You say a lot of bad things about me, my dear. If you yourself are perfect, then maybe I’ll believe you. And if you are very thin, then I ask you to always talk even worse about me. This can make me more perfect than anyone else; It is wonderful to be hated by the wicked. You say a lot of bad things about me, my dear, but you do evil to yourself. For me, this reasoning serves as a cure for this trouble. If the great God favors you, then in another way he favors me. And if he is angry with you, how much more severe will the judgment be! You say a lot of bad things about me, my dear. If you speak fairly, then I am guilty, who gave rise to your tongue. And if it is unfair and false, what do I care about your speeches? Even tell everyone: for this, without a doubt, you will receive greater punishment from God. I already have gray hair; I exhaust my flesh, I humble my eye; With day and all-night labors I exhausted the unfortunate soul, just to get rid of the fire; but despite all this, it is not without difficulty that I keep my body in obedience. How can you, although you are still young and your flesh is wider than that of an elephant, with all this, rest yourself as a man who has achieved purity and spiritually loved his beloved? No! Love that cares about Christ must run. Your guardian, virgin, is the ever-living Christ, your beloved Bridegroom, jealous of your heavenly image. Therefore, do not accept flesh again as a guardian of your poor flesh, but avoid the gossip of evil people. 5. Do not cover the undefiled tunic of Christ with shame, bringing reproach upon all the virgins. Fire near straw is not safe. It is not safe for you, monk, to keep a virgin wife under the same roof. Let us suppose that the hope of better blessings separated a man and a woman from each other, but nature still hides a secret illness within itself. As long as you keep yourself away 5. you have one spark. But as soon as you come together, with a small breeze you will ignite a fire. And to husbands and wives who come together under the name of lovers, I will say this: you disappear, a plague for Christians, you disappear, trying to cover up the frantic attraction of nature! And there is something fornicating in the eyes. Flee every man, especially sinizakt 6: this is the bitter water of Marah - believe me on this, virgin. I praise chastity and the chaste. And these lovers even mix some kind of bile into honey (oh envy!). I praise the bigamist more than the beloved, because marriage is not a shame, and even a stone does not spare the Sinizakts from reproach. A mixture of white and black produces a grayish color. Life and death have nothing in between. And I don’t know where to classify these, as they are called, sinizakts! Should we admit that they are married? 5. or call them celibate, or leave some kind of middle ground for them? But I (let them say bad things about me) will not praise this. There are more intemperate people in the world, and everyone, due to his own weakness, is quick to suspect others. You bear flesh and live together with your beloved, who also has flesh. 10. What do you think those who live uncleanly will conclude about you? Let the chaste say nothing, but who will listen indifferently to the ridicule spread by the mob? Marriage is a legal and honest matter. But even better than the flesh (and no less better) is freedom from the flesh. 15. And if, beloved, there is, in addition to this, a celibate marriage, then you will live in a dubious marriage. Try, firstly, to really be chaste, and secondly, not to give even a suspicion of anything vile. You are pure, you are purer than gold, but it pains me to see that with body and eyes you are devoted to your beloved. 5. You call her beloved - this is still an honest name. But alas, alas! So that there is no unclean love here! You say: “Nothing is unclean.” Yes, I believe you. But this will show others the way to live unholy with women. When a chaste man 10. lives with a chaste woman, he is a muddy hole for her; I say this to men and women living together without marriage. Although the conscience is clear, slander must be avoided. And the tongue is most ready for slander. Who will put a flaming sword to my paradise? Who will give a guardian to the great virginity? 15. Who will prevent any beloved from entering my paradise, so that the tongue of the envious does not creep in? Ridicule does not spare even saints. Heavenly, great-hearted, radiant, high-ranking maiden! You, who are co-throne with the Angels who do not know marital ties and lead a lonely life, remember God, avoid the arrows of dust and do not disgrace your life by introducing a male guardian to you! Virgo, be a virgin both for prying eyes and in secret, and do not introduce a male guardian to yourself. Your beloved is Christ. Look at every husband with contempt. Why do you need to have deadly poison inside your home? 5. Merge eyes with eyes, word with word, but pure with pure; after this we will decorate you with crowns of chastity. It is common for a pure person not to tolerate the idol of foolish dust in his presence, and when men and women live together, the disease is not far away. How difficult it is to avoid carnal revolts during carnal intimacy! Therefore, monks, keep yourselves away from women, because there are many secrets of marriage by which the attracted gaze defiles the soul. Monks! Lead a monastic life. If you live with your lovers, you are not monks. It is not typical for you to live as a couple. The image of angelic glory is loneliness. And if you are consoled by your beloved, then you are lovers of a mortal couple. 5. I believe that you live with a pure person. But if you are now chaste with a woman, then you are afraid of the morning, lest some wind cause great disturbances to those who live for Christ and are comforted by their beloved. There is either fire or signs of fire in lovers. 10. Run external chastity only. 21. One should not slander those living purely because others fall What are you saying? Many are pure and chaste, do not harbor any filth or vice, but one bad thing among the honest serves as a reproach to many, so why should unmarried virgins live with men? Spare your tongue, O envious race! Not everyone is too thin, not everyone is good-natured. It is necessary to give in something to nature. If one of the zealots of purity ever died, can you really transfer this to everyone? Everyone has their own body. The evil star was an Angel, but with his fall nothing was diminished in the angelic grace. And Judas is not a reproach to his disciples because he fell. And you, for the sake of the few, insult all the pure. Is this fair? Do not add those who have been shipwrecked to those who have made a successful voyage, and do not place those who have slipped in life with those who have lived well. The good and the bad do not have the same limits. One thing I notice is that the fallen died. 5. You, without mentioning at all about those who completed the course successfully, call only the fallen. And I call them successful. You show off the most vicious, because you yourself are thin, but I show off the virtuous. Separately put the one who leads the life indecently and chastely. Because of one bad thing, do not consider everyone bad. 10. It is better for you to respect the pure than to hate the wicked. Tell me, friend, does a servant really seem to you something more superior than a wife? At least that's not my thought. For truly, we are all prisoners of the flesh, and the Divine particle is mixed in us for the worse. 5. What's better? Should the unfortunate soul be distracted from the flesh or tied to it with even more difficult bonds? 25. And there should be sedateness in a joke The gray haired woman also jokes, but her jokes are sedate jokes. She mixes childish innocence with Christ. And laughing with some importance, I thereby delight my heart. But away from me are Helicons and Daphnes and the fury of the tripods. 26. On those who indulge in luxury at the tombs of martyrs If wrestling is pleasant to those who are skilled in dancing, then those who are victorious in wrestling will also enjoy the fun, because one thing is the opposite of the other. And if neither dance lovers like wrestling, nor wrestlers like fun, then how can you offer martyrs as a gift? 5. are you silver, wine, viands and belching? Is he really righteous who has a full pocket, even if he is the most unrighteous person? Tell me, martyrs, do you really like popular gatherings? - What is more pleasant than this? -What do you enjoy? Virtue, because many can become better here if virtue is honored. This is rightly said by you. 5. And drunkenness and serving the belly, of course, are pleasant to others. Good ascetics are alien to effeminacy. Those who in former times cared to bring pleasant things to the demons, and not pure sacrifices, feasted in honor of the demons. We Christians have finally freed ourselves from this and have established spiritual meetings for our good ascetics. But now listen, lovers of feasts, 5. I am troubled by the fear that you too are imitating demonic rites. Do not be deceived, good ones, that ascetics sing praises to the belly. These are the regulations of your own larynxes. But I know only one way to honor the martyrs - to remove from oneself what dishonors the soul, and to destroy fatness in oneself with tears. I bear witness to you, 5. good ascetics and martyrs, that the honors given to you are turned into desecration by these gluttons. You do not require a meal that emits a pleasant smell, nor do you require cooks. They bring belching as a reward for virtue. 30. To the church, which was converted from an idol church by Saint Gregory into the church of God I was an ancient city, which was filled with demons, and now, restored by the hands of Gregory, it has become the church of Christ. Get away from me, demons! 31. On those who steal coffins (1) 12 When you, the fierce beast, the destroyer of such a magnificent tomb - the work of many hands, were allowed inside this secret refuge, then tell me, what did you see there? Isn't it rottenness? 5. Are they not the skulls of the dead, are they not the skeletons of people who once existed, since they say that husband and wife were laid here? And your flesh did not disintegrate? But what did you find? Nothing, absolutely nothing. However, your crime is with you. Get away, get away from me! You will be punished for the dead; 10. do not approach the living; Although we have not yet died, we are still afraid of you. This destroyer of tombs, despoiler of graves, who is ready to do anything for gold and who excavated this coffin, the most distinguished of all monuments, if any of the owners of this coffin kills him, if only the owners here, 5. will give them due punishment. But what am I saying: will he kill? Will it plunge into the rapids? What am I saying: it will come down? Will he cut off both his hands? What am I saying: will it cut off? Will his corpse be left without burial? Then only he will suffer a fair execution; however, will still remain unpunished for 10. that he did all this for the sake of shiny gold. Who are you, coming to my bones with a digger and with hands ready to destroy my coffin? Alas! Alas! Unhappy! You don't want to show respect to the very beauty of this tomb. Oh, how worthy you are to be crushed by the rubble of this same tomb! There was a Phrygian Midas. He asked that everything turn into gold. And he receives what he asks for, but still dies of hunger. It is true that he dies as he wished, that is, a rich man, but he still dies. Oh, that the same thing would befall you, digger of coffins, so that everyone would learn to respect the tombs! How? And you laid your hands on this, you villains? And the deceptive gold lured you here? Not even gold, but only the hope of finding gold. Such passion is a worthy punishment for the evil! There is no gold in this tomb. If you want to get rich, become the chief of robbers - this is the most profitable life! But don’t touch the dead: some kind of grave awaits you yourself. I was deceived, because when I dug this grave, I thought that mortals would respect it. But they came running to me, a dead man, as to a rich man, and, since I had nothing else, they took possession of my coffin. Tear, tear apart the tomb! I know very well that you want to find gold from a dead man; but you are digging a hole for yourself, into which God’s justice will eventually cast you. If it comes late, then with interest. The tomb suffered a lot, and the one who excavated it suffered more. The tomb does not even feel what it has suffered, and you, a lover of gold, have become a byword for everyone. If you die, the grave will not accept you. Perish, perish among the people, the gold that taught the rich to build tombs! This tomb, which no longer resembles a tomb, is a witness to this. Help, people, otherwise it will be bad for someone. Let the gold that is in your coffin turn to ashes! This will be a fair punishment for you, who even disturbs the long-dead in their graves. Look, who did you offend and who did you expose while digging up the coffins and digging up the ashes? The one who cannot tell the living what he is suffering, nor how much gold he had in the coffin. What kind of Sciron, or Typheus, or giant is it that comes to rob the dead and my grave? What is this? Where is the anger that punishes the coffin diggers? It's time for lightning to strike the evil ones. Help, dead people! But what power do the dead have? Help, neighbors! But who else ruined me? Are you still delaying, Justice? And the destroyer of the coffin is gold. So I will stand until the last fire. Justice, judges, laws, judgment, and you help the villains! Otherwise, this coffin would not have been destroyed by a hostile hand, which even demands gold from the long dead. Cultivated land produces fruit, sand produces gold, a silkworm produces fine threads, and a tomb produces dust. If gold is mined from your bones, then do not leave a single bone in the ground: let gold flow from them all! Thrice worthy of death; because, firstly: you mixed the bodies of the wicked and the bodies of the crowned [martyrs], and the graves of the priest between them; secondly, that the coffins that you robbed criminally, having graves similar to them yourself, sold them 5. often they gave it to everyone; thirdly, you blasphemed against the martyrs whom you love. Sodomites, go away, culprits. A. Christian children, listen. B. The tomb is nothing. A. How should you fill up your graves? V. But there is the same reward for everyone. A. So as not to be thrown out of the coffins by the hostile hands of others? 5. If the non-dead knows what is here, it is not decided, I am convinced that you bear the insolence of your dead father. Drinking companions, servants of the womb, vomiting, fat, with what graves of other people's martyrs will you honor? Piety to an inappropriate extent? Curb your appetite 10. and then I will believe your glorification of the martyrs. G. Honor to the martyrs is to always die for life, a reminder to the great heavenly blood, and coffins for the dead. Just as He sets our seats with alien stones, therefore these are not coffins. 15. The martyrs poured a great sacrificial libation with blood to God, and now they have received a worthy Divine gift: exaltations 15, hymns, peoples, veneration of souls. But flee from the tombs, guardians of the dead, listen to the martyrs. Apparently, man is already tired of plowing furrows across the earth, crossing the sea, picking up an all-destroying spear, but only with a pickaxe and a fierce heart in his chest, entering the tombs of his fathers, looking for gold there, when some wicked man tore up my beautiful tomb for the sake of self-interest. Seven wonders in the world: walls, a statue, gardens, pyramids, a church, another statue and a tomb. The eighth miracle was me - a huge, high tomb rising far up from these cliffs. 5. But, being superior in glory to the dead, the insatiability of your frantic hand has now aroused, O murderer. There was a time when I, the tomb, stood unshakably, much higher than the top of the mountain, like a visible cliff from a distance, but now a domestic animal has shaken me for the sake of gold, and I am shocked by the hands of my neighbor. Whoever plundered this grave, which is surrounded on all sides by a crown of tetrahedral stones, stands to be enclosed in this monument and the hole to be immediately sealed over the wicked man. I saw a criminal case on the road - an unearthed grave. All this is due to insidious gold. But even if you got gold from it, you found something bad. And if he came out of the grave with nothing, then it was in vain that he conceived such an ungodly deed. How many times has human life changed in my presence! However, I did not escape the hands of my neighbor’s destroyer. Fearing neither God nor the holiness of the dead, he mercilessly knocked me to the ground, the tomb that stood majestically here. Run away from this villain, the coffin-drainer, when he so easily ravaged such a vast mass, rather than being crushed by it himself! Next, keep running away from him! With this we will please the dead. Alas! Alas! Looking at this highly erected, but already destroyed monument, I foresee an imminent disaster threatening the coffin diggers and the surrounding residents. But the enemy will not escape execution, and our job is to shed tears for the dead. The majestic coffin of Mausolov. But he is respected by the Carians. There is no hand that robs coffins. But I was distinguished by my magnificence among the Cappadocians, and look what I suffered! Write on the pillory the name of the killer of the dead. There was a wall under the mountain, and then it fell; From a heap of stones lying together, like a hill, I rose, a tomb. But what did this mean for gold lovers? Nothing. They crushed me to the core. The dead have dead monuments. And whoever erects a magnificent tomb of ashes, let him suffer for this, because this man would not have plundered my coffin if he had not hoped to receive gold from the dead. What monument is this and whose? - Don't know; the inscription is not visible on the pillar, because it was knocked over before the tomb. What time? – The work of the monument is ancient. Tell me, whose envy plundered this? – The villainous hands of a neighbor. What did they want to find? - Gold outline. Whoever passes by my tomb, let him know that I suffered this insult from the new heir. Although I had neither gold nor silver, the beauty of these shining arches gave me the idea that I had both. Get closer and cry while looking at this monument to the deceased. And I was once magnificent, and now I serve as a monument on the tomb of the poor. Don't build tombs, other mortal! What can happen to her, except that she will be ruined by a gold-loving hand? Eternity, the rivets of gloomy death, the depths of gloomy oblivion, the dead! Who and how dared to raise their hands on my tomb? How dare you? And the holiness of the dead does not protect them? I, the tomb, am covered with shameful wounds, all ulcerated, like a man in a disastrous battle. Is this really what mortals want? And what an illegal pretext! The dead man is being pulled out of me, as if it were gold. By God, the patron saint of strangers, I beg everyone who passes by my tomb to say: “May he who did this suffer the same!” I don’t know what kind of dead man the tomb contains, but having poured tears on it, I will say: may the one who did this suffer the same! Having left everything, both the depths of the earth and the limits of the sea, you come to me, wanting to find gold from my dead man. I have a dead body and the wrath of the dead. Whoever comes, we will gladly give it to anyone who wants it. If I gave you gold one on one, would you not take care of what you took from me? Otherwise I would call you very malicious. And if you are now tearing up the grave where the inviolable pledge is hidden, and doing it for gold, then tell me what you are worthy of. Bury the living in the ground, for why bury the dead? Those worthy of the grave are those who allowed you to live like this - a scoffer of the departed and a lover of gold. And you, unfortunate one, will you boldly accept the mysterious Food with the same hands, will you embrace God with the same hands with which you dug up my grave? Is there really no advantage for the righteous when you also escape the scales of justice? What kind of loyalty is this, O dear land, when you destroyed by death the dead man whom I entrusted to your bowels? It was not the earth that shook me, but an evil man who crushed me and, for the sake of self-interest, invaded me. Previously there were two refuges - God and the dead. But God is merciful to those who resort to Him, and whether the dead man is merciful - the tomb robber will see it. Let the Erinnyes take you away quickly, but I will mourn the dead, I will mourn the atrocity of your hands. Stop gravediggers, stop hiding the dead in the depths of the earth, better hide the grave diggers. You, of course, will be tormented by your conscience, and I will begin to mourn the dead, mourn the crime of your hand. Stop building tombs, stop hiding the dead in the depths of the earth - give room to grave robbers! And this is a cunning invention of the burials - to build such monuments in order to find a gold-loving hand! What, insatiable one, gave you the idea of ​​seeking such misfortune for a pitiful and fickle profit? You are no longer needed, pillars and tombs are monuments of the dead. I will no longer proclaim the dead by building monuments over them after my neighbor scattered my glorious grave. You, dear land, accept the dead from me! Pillars, stone graves in the mountains - the work of giants, the undecaying memory of the dead! Let the earth overthrow all this, shaking, and thereby help my dead, who are attacked by a destructive hand, armed with iron. When you, the fierce titan, were digging up the famous grave on the mountain, how did you dare to look at the dead? And when he looked, he laid his hands on the bones? Or, perhaps, they would have kept you there if you could have had the same grave with them. Tombs, watchtowers, mountains and passersby, weep for my grave, weep for the grave robber! And you, echo, repeat the last words from the surrounding cliffs: “Mourn the coffin thief!” Grave hills, elevations, mountains, travelers, weep over my tomb, weep over the grave digger. My voice reflects the echo from the high rocks: cry over the grave digger. Kill, plunder, evil slaves of low self-interest: no one will restrain your love of money! If you, a malicious villain, dared to do this for the sake of gold, then you will lay your predatory hand on everything. This man, out of vain hope, dug up my dear grave - the only property left to me after death. And let some villain kill him with his own hands and, having killed him, throw him far from the graves of his fathers! Who destroyed my dear tomb, which rose like a mountain on the top of a high mountain? Gold sharpened the sword of people, gold destroyed the insatiable swimmer in the waves of the spring stream; 5. the hope of getting gold ruined me too - a huge and beautiful tomb. For unjust people everything is lower than gold. Often a traveler buried the body of a sailor carried by the waves, often buried someone killed by a beast, or even someone he himself killed in war. 10. And I was buried by the wrong hands, but a neighbor dug up my coffin. How evil you are, O treacherous and merciless gold! You lay an unrighteous hand on both the living and the dead. To whom I gave my coffin and my bones for safekeeping, it was those villainous hands who destroyed me. It's all over: we're joking and dead; The living no longer have any respect for the dead! Look at this coffin. He was so beautiful, a miracle for those passing by, a miracle for the surrounding residents; but the hope of getting gold ruined him too. Wherever I die, I beg you: throw my body into the river or the dogs, or give it as food to the all-consuming fire. It's better than dying at the hands of gold-loving hands. And it’s them that I’m afraid of, looking at this coffin that has suffered such ruin. Once upon a time, King Cyrus, looking for gold, opened one royal tomb and found in it the following inscription: “Opening coffins is an insatiable work of the hand.” So you, too, did not open this majestic tombstone with the hands of saints. He who is not kind to the living will perhaps also help the dead. And whoever does not help the dead will never help the undead. So you, when you have plundered the coffins of the dead, will never again stretch out your sacred hand to the undead. I assure you that I have nothing: I’m lying here, a poor dead man. There was no gold in this coffin either, but it was excavated. Everything is available to gold lovers. Run away from here, justice! Graves for the dead: help and tell everything how someone wild is disturbing the coffins. Dead from the graves: what should we do? We were raised again, and Dike left the earth on the killed bull. Everything died. We mock the dead. The living no longer have any shame about the dead. I look with amazement at this coffin, which the hope of gold destroyed, a miracle for those passing by, a miracle for those living around. If you erected such a monument to the deceased, this is not yet a great miracle. And if you destroyed such a monument, then you will be famous among your descendants, and others will rank you among the great villains, because you overthrew the tomb, which makes even murderers tremble. Just as gold fell like rain on the Rhodians, so gold is brought to you from the grave with iron, and with it trouble. Dig up, dig up all the graves; maybe one of them, collapsing, will crush you too, and thereby help the dead. I was a tomb, but now it’s no longer a tomb, but a heap of stones. This is what the gold lovers wanted. Where is the justice? Alas! Alas! I became dust, but I did not escape the villainous hands. What's worse than gold? 5. I fear for the human race, if someone, the tomb, dared to knock you down to the ground with your reverend hands. I, a tomb like a tower, stood like a mountain, but human hands razed me to the ground. What law allowed this? This monastery belonged to me, who died, but iron penetrated into my grave. Let someone else take over your house! 10. A spade is needed in the arable land, but away from my grave, away! I have nothing but the angry dead. If I were waiting for you, insatiable plunderer of coffins, both the stake and the wheel would hang here. Why are you disturbing me, an empty tomb? I hide only bones and ashes within myself for those who come. I, the tomb, am higher than all the tombs, but I, along with the others, was revealed by the hand of a murderer! And I was robbed by the hand of a murderer! Mortals, build no more tombstones or make burials. Get ready for the dead bodies, dogs! And people, these gold seekers, are already extracting gold from the ashes of the dead. One built a tomb, and you destroyed it. Let one build a tomb for you, if permitted, and let another overturn it to the ground! And the gold lovers have already laid hands on the dead. Dead people, run, if possible, from the graves. 5. Why are you bothering me? I contain only the fragile skulls of the dead within me. All the wealth of the tombs is bones. Run away from the demons that have settled here! And there is nothing else in me, the tomb. All the wealth of the tombs is bones. If the whole coffin were a golden abode, and then, gold-lover, 10. It would not be appropriate to raise your hand against the dead. You, the living, own everything, but I, the deceased, inherited a few stones, and they are dear to me. Spare the dead! 15. I am not a golden abode, why are they emptying me too? For me, the tomb that you disturb, all the wealth is dead. I, the tomb, was the glory of the surrounding inhabitants, and now has become a monument to the most villainous hand. If your heart is too gold-loving, 20. dig up your gold elsewhere, but I have nothing but decayed funeral clothes. Don’t leave a dead man naked for people to see, otherwise someone else will naked you too, and gold is mostly just a sleepy dream. It has become no longer enough for mortals to lay hands on mortals. On the contrary, you are in a hurry to take gold from the dead. 25. Help your tombs too, you who see this ruined monument. Look what this coffin robber is like! Who, having long been covered with motionless stones, exposed me to mortals as a poor dead man? Why did you, unfortunate one, destroy my grave? 30. May God end your life too, O gold-loving monster! I swear by the dead, I swear by Tartarus himself, never to turn a benevolent gaze on the grave robber! Mountains and cliffs, weep over my coffin, as over one of my comrades; Let every stone fall on the one who touches you with iron! 35. I was rich, but now I am poor; The tomb is huge, but there is no gold inside. Let the one who is preparing to desecrate the inviolable refuge of a dead man know this! Although you will dig up my underground dwelling to the ground without rest, the end of all this will be one labor for you. I have nothing but bones. 40. Ruin, destroy! The tomb gives a lot of gold to lovers of stones, but everything else is dust. Dear earth, do not accept into your depths when the one who enjoyed the benefits of robbing coffins dies! Iron came to mock me, no longer alive, and to find gold from me, but it found a dead beggar. Tartarus is a fable for some, for otherwise this man would not have opened the coffin. O justice, how slow you are! O justice! How slow you are! And Tartarus is no longer scary, because otherwise this man would not have opened the coffin. In TSO, inscriptions No. 5 and 6 were published without a title in the cycle “Philagry for His Patience”, under No. 2 and 3. - Ed. In TSO, inscriptions No. 8 and 9 were published without a title in the cycle “To the Slanderer,” under No. 2 and 3. - Ed. In TSO, writings No. 10, 11, 12 were published without titles in the cycle “To the Monks,” under No. 2 to 4. – Ed. The translation was made for this edition but PG. T. 38. Col. 88. – Ed. In TSO, inscription No. 14 was published without a title in the cycle “To the Monks”, under No. 12. - Ed. Sinizakty from Greek. συνείσακτος or άγάπητος “beloved”, “lover”; literally “brought in together” - this was the name in the early Church for persons of different sexes living together as virgins (monastics). Saints Gregory the Theologian and John Chrysostom sharply criticized this institute for profanation of the high ideal of virgin monastic life. – Ed. In TSO, inscriptions No. 15 and 16 were published without a title in the cycle “To the Monks”, under No. 5 and 6. - Ed. In TSO, inscriptions No. 17 and 18 were published without titles in the cycle “To the Monks”, Nos. 7 and 9. – Ed. In TSO, inscriptions No. 19 and 20 were published without titles in the cycle “To the Monks”, under No. 8 and 13. - Ed. In TSO, inscriptions No. 22 and 23 were published without a title in the cycle “One should not slander the purely living.”, under No. 2 and 3. - Ed. In TSO, writings No. 27–29 were published without a title in the cycle “On those who are on the graves...”, No. 2, 3 and 4. – Ed. The numbering in brackets shows the order of the product in the TCO. – Ed. Notes No. 47 and 48 have been translated for this edition but PG. T. 37. Col. 107–109. – Ed. A conversation between A, a poet, B, a tomb robber, and C or D, martyrs. From Boevin’s interpretation, Muratori did not dare to attribute this poem to Gregory. Translation made for this PG edition. T. 38. Col. 120. – Ed. Captions No. 87 and 88 have been translated for this edition according to PG. T. 38. Col. 124–125. – Ed.