Joy to all those who mourn,/ and those who are offended by the Intercessor,/ and those who are hungry for the Nourisher,/ the strange Consolation,/ those overwhelmed by Refuge,/ the sick by visiting,/ the infirm and the Intercessor,/ the Rod old age, / You are the Mother of the Most Pure God, // we strive, we pray, that Your servant may be saved.
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