Песнь Христу после безмолвия в Пасху

My King, Christ! Since I am again giving the long-held word to the air, I call You first with my lips. Before You I pour out from my mind this word - this (if I may say so) an immaculate offering of the purest sacrifice. Father's light, the Word of the great Mind; the most excellent of all words, the highest Light of the most high Light, the Only Begotten, the Image of the immortal Father and the Seal of the Beginning, Illuminating together with the great Spirit, the End of the immense age, the great-glorious, the Giver of bliss, the exalted, the heavenly, the omnipotent Breath of the Mind, the Ruler of the world, the Life-Giver, the Creator of everything that is and will be - everything belongs to You, You have bound With the wave of the foundation of the earth, you carry everything that You desire on an unwavering path. According to Your mania, O King, the lofty sun, rising onto the fiery circle, eclipses the stars, just as You eclipse minds. According to Your mania, it lives and then disappears alternately, and again the eye of the night appears in full light - the moon. According to Your mania, the zodiac circle and this measuredly circling round dance determine the measure of annual times, imperceptibly dissolving among themselves. Both motionless and moving, returning to their previous path, the stars are the verb of Your Divine wisdom. Your light is all those heavenly minds that sing the glory of the heavenly Trinity. Thy glory is the man whom Thou hast placed here as an angel, a hymn-speaker of Thy radiance, O immortal Light and newly born for mortals, ethereal Height, and finally, to deliver mortals from destruction, Flesh-Bearer! I live for You, I speak for You; I am an animated sacrifice before You - the only offering left to me from all my acquisitions. For You I tied my tongue; I give you permission to speak. But I pray, make both of them holy, so that I will say what is proper and not think of what is impermissible; Having thrown away the dirt, he exuded margarite, extracted gold from the sand, a rose from the prickly thorns, leaving the straw, and gathered wheat from the ears. Bringing these beginnings of my mind to You, Christ, my tongue composed the first song. On this day the great Christ is called forth from the dead to whom he was kissed. On this day He repelled the sting of death, crushed the gloomy gates of dreary hell, and granted freedom to souls. On this day, rising from the grave, He appeared to the people for whom He was born, died and raised from the dead, so that we, reborn and having escaped death, might be caught up with You ascending. On this day, the radiant and great angelic face was filled with joy, singing the song of victory. On this day, I, having loosened my lips from silence, lifted up a loud voice, and so I became a harpper to praise You. I opened up the interior of the mind to the mind and to the Word – the word; and then, if you wish, I will open it to the Great Spirit. You might be interested in: