Сон в храме Анастасии, который св. Григорием устроен был в Константинополе

I rested in a sweet sleep, and a night vision introduced me to Anastasia, to whom my thoughts gravitated throughout the day. She was the first to raise the lofty word, which had until then remained at the foot of the mountain, to its very top. That is why this church, the work of my tirelessly laboring hand, received the name Anastasia. I imagined that I was sitting on a high throne, but not with my eyebrows raised high; no, and in my dreams I never served pride. On both sides below me sat the elders, the leaders of the herd, differing in age. The servants stood in bright robes, like images of angelic radiance. Some of the people, like bees, huddled against the bars, and everyone tried to come closer; others crowded into the sacred vestibules, equally hurrying with their ears and feet; and others were led further to hear my words by the colorful marketplaces and the streets resounding under their feet. Pure maidens, together with well-behaved wives, bowed down to the dean's ears from high roofs. And that added to the charm of the night. The people, wanting to hear my word, stood divided into parts. Some demanded words low and understandable; because they did not want and did not learn how to extend their thoughts to grief. Others desired lofty and florid speech; and such were those who tried to deeply explore this and that wisdom, both ours and alien to us. Exclamations were heard on both sides, which expressed the opposing desires of the listeners. But from my lips poured out the one and only Trinity, shining with the three Beauties revealed to us. I overthrew my opponents with a sonorous voice, streams of flaming spirit, and gusts of speech. Some were delighted and praised; others stood in silent amazement; others uttered some other voices, and some objected only mentally, because the contradiction, before being resolved in words, died away in the very illnesses of birth; and others, like waves raised by the winds, entered into open struggle. But good speech delighted everyone, both eloquent and knowledgeable in the sacred word of piety, both ours and strangers, and even those who are very far from our court, being pitiful worshipers of powerless idols. Just as a grape blackened by warm rays is no longer completely unripe, but begins to soften little by little, and is not quite ripe, but partly black, partly blush, in some places already reddened, and in others filled with sour juice: so they also differed in the ripeness of the damage, and I already admired the need for the most extensive grinding. This was my vision; but the voice of the loops stole the dream from me and the elders, and with it Anastasia. For some time the ghost of a ghost still hovered before me, but that one, gradually decaying, hid in my heart; All that remained with me was sorrow and inactive old age. I mourn for You, my Trinity! I grieve for you, my children! What have you done to me, envy? You have taken a lot from me; Don’t crush my unknown life with anything worse. There are many elegant works of architecture in the royal city, of which it is proud; but above all others I can boast of heavenly churches, churches that were once mine, but now alien to me, and among others, the magnificent church of the Apostles, which is cut into four parts by cruciform walls. However, all these churches do not arouse in me as much regret and sorrow as Anastasia - the new Bethlehem. True, I suffered many misfortunes at sea and on land from enemies and from friends, from shepherds and from wolves, from a painful illness and from old age, which makes me bent; but never before had such sorrow befallen me. The people enslaved by the Assyrians did not cry so much for the great church when they were led far from their fatherland; The Israelites did not cry so much about the Kivot, which was taken by foreigners; Jacob did not weep like this before them over the abduction of his beloved son; The shaggy lion does not grieve for the children killed by the hunters, or the shepherd for the lost flock, or the bird for the involuntarily abandoned nest on a hospitable tree, or the polyp for the bed he left behind; how I still lament about the newly built church, about this fruit of my labors, which is being used by someone else. If ever my heart forgets about you, Anastasia, or my tongue utters something before your name; then may Christ forget me! How often, and without great sacrifices and without a meal, I cleansed the people gathered at Anastasia’s, while I myself was away, creating an immaterial church inside my heart and pouring tears on divine visions! I will never forget, even if I wanted to, I cannot forget your love, virgins, singers, faces of your own and strangers, delighting with alternate singing, widows, orphans who have no shelter, the weak, looking at my hands as at the hands of God, and sweet abodes that nourish old age! And if you still have the memory of the long-suffering me; then thanksgiving to the Trinity! For many people’s hearts are carried away by the flow of circumstances, and the frivolous have shame only before their eyes. I wish only one thing, venerable Trinity, that Your Divinity would forever remain unforgettable in the souls of the newly planted. Accept my farewell greetings, Kings who helped me in my suffering! Embrace East and West fighting each other! Accept the priests who rebel against each other! Accept it too, presiding pride! Accept it too, great city! But I am above earthly thrones, and if I desire glory, then only immortal glory. But save, save me, beloved Trinity! Finally, I will see where the throne of pure Anastasia is. Such is the cry of Gregory, sighing for Anastasia, from whom I was once separated by impotent envy. You might be interested in: