І҆рмо́съ:
Irimos:
O Life, O unsearchable Life,
Thou art always with us;
Thou comest suddenly to our souls,
And we are amazed at Thy compunction.
Thou art a stranger in this world,
A power and authority over all things.
Thou art a spectacle for the eyes of the righteous,
A creature of God, a creation.
Thou art deceitful, O Life,
More than guile itself;
Thou leadest us astray with spiritual delusion,
And we are lost in Thy vanity.
But Thou hast mercy on us always,
For Thou art ever merciful.
Thy righteousness and Thy glory
Are beyond all understanding.
O Life eternal, O unsearchable Life,
Grant us to see Thee face to face,
That we may know Thee as our God,
And be with Thee in Thy Kingdom forever.
Ꙗ҆́коже дре́вле бл҃гочести̑выѧ трѝ ѻ҆́троки ѡ҆роси́лъ є҆сѝ въ пла́мени халде́йстѣмъ, свѣ́тлымъ бж҃ества̀ ѻ҆гне́мъ и҆ на́съ ѡ҆зарѝ, бл҃гослове́нъ є҆сѝ, взыва́ющыѧ, бж҃е ѻ҆тє́цъ на́шихъ.
As of old the three pious youths Orosil were enlightened in the flames of Chaldean fire, by the bright divine Fire and were glorified, calling out, "O Father of ours."
Раздра́сѧ цр҃ко́внаѧ свѣ́тлаѧ ꙾катапета́сма꙾, въ распѧ́тїи содѣ́телѧ, сокрове́ннꙋю въ писа́нїи ꙗ҆влѧ́ющи вѣ̑рнымъ и҆́стинꙋ, бл҃гослове́нъ є҆сѝ, зовꙋ́щымъ, бж҃е ѻ҆тє́цъ на́шихъ.
The church's bright canopy is rent in the midst of the Cross-bearing, revealing its hidden depths to the faithful by its writings, blessed art thou, calling us, O Father of our spirits.
Прободє́ннымъ твои̑мъ ре́брѡмъ, ка́плѧми бг҃ото́чныѧ животворѧ́щїѧ кро́ве хрⷭ҇тѐ, смотри́тельнѡ ка́плющїѧ на зе́млю, сꙋ́щихъ ѿ землѝ возсозда́лъ є҆сѝ, бл҃гослове́нъ є҆сѝ, зовꙋ́щихъ, бж҃е ѻ҆тє́цъ на́шихъ.
Blessed art Thou, O Comforter, who by Thy ribs sheddeth life-giving blood, O Lord, as a drop of the Holy One, and as a tender drop falling upon the earth, Thou hast re-created those who are of the earth; blessed art Thou, whoarest invoked by our Mother.
Трⷪ҇ченъ:
Blessed be Thou, O Lord, God of our fathers, for ever and ever.
Дх҃а бл҃га́го со ѻ҆ц҃е́мъ просла́вимъ, и҆ съ сн҃омъ є҆диноро́днымъ, є҆ди́но въ трїе́хъ вѣ́рнїи чтꙋ́ще нача́ло, и҆ є҆ди́но бж҃ество̀: бл҃гослове́нъ є҆сѝ, зовꙋ́ще, бж҃е ѻ҆тє́цъ на́шихъ.
Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who hast called us Thy creatures.
И҆́нъ
And He
І҆рмо́съ: Го́рдый мꙋчи́тель.
Virmos: Proud Martyr.
Не про́ста со́лнце на крⷭ҇тѣ̀ ви́сѧща чл҃вѣ́ка, но бг҃а воплоще́нна зрѧ̀ помрача́етсѧ. є҆мꙋ́же и҆ пое́мъ: бл҃гослове́нъ є҆сѝ гдⷭ҇и, бж҃е ѻ҆тє́цъ на́шихъ.
Not in vain doth the sun shine upon a sinner, but when the Son of God is incarnate, it darkeneth. To Him we sing: Blessed art Thou, O Lord, our God and Saviour.
Крѣ́пкаго бж҃ество́мъ прїе́мъ а҆́дъ страшли́вый, нетлѣ́нїѧ пода́телѧ, дꙋ́шы пра́ведныхъ вопїю́щыѧ и҆зблева̀: бл҃гослове́нъ є҆сѝ гдⷭ҇и, бж҃е ѻ҆тє́цъ на́шихъ.
Blessed art Thou, O Lord, the Hope of the devout souls who cry out and are heard: Blessed art Thou, O Father, our God.
Бг҃оро́диченъ:
O Theotokos,
Сокро́вище многоцѣ́нное бл҃гослове́нїѧ ꙗ҆ви́ласѧ є҆сѝ пречⷭ҇таѧ, чи́стымъ се́рдцемъ тебѐ и҆сповѣ́дающымъ бг҃ороди́тельницꙋ: нб҃о и҆з̾ тебѐ воплоти́сѧ бг҃ъ ѻ҆тє́цъ на́шихъ.
Blessed be the treasury of inestimable wealth, O Theotokos, who hast confessed Thee with a pure heart Him Who was incarnate for our sake, O Mother of God. Heaven from Thee hath begotten the Savior of us.
И҆́нъ.
And.
І҆рмо́съ то́йже
This hymn of the same.
И҆́же сла́вы гдⷭ҇ь, и҆ держа́й гѡ́рнїѧ си̑лы, и҆́же со ѻ҆ц҃е́мъ сѣдѧ́й, дѣ́вственныма рꙋка́ма носи́мь: бл҃гослове́нъ є҆сѝ гдⷭ҇и, бж҃е ѻ҆тє́цъ на́шихъ.
Blessed art thou, O Lord, God of our fathers, who sittest on high with thy holy angels, holding in thine almighty hands: blessed art thou, O Father, the Fount of our salvation.
Ꙗ҆́ра сме́рть, но сїю̀ тебѣ̀ ꙾бесѣ́довавшꙋю꙾погꙋби́лъ є҆сѝ, ѿ дв҃ы бг҃оѷпоста́снаѧ пло́ть бы́въ: бл҃гослове́нъ є҆сѝ гдⷭ҇и, бж҃е ѻ҆тє́цъ на́шихъ.
Death, though thou art our enemy, by conversing with thee thou didst destroy us: blessed art thou, O Lord, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Бцⷣꙋ вси́ тѧ бг҃а ро́ждшꙋю ᲂу҆вѣ́дѣхомъ, є҆ди́наго бо ѿ трⷪ҇цы воплоти́вшагосѧ и҆з̾ тебѐ родила̀ є҆сѝ: бл҃гослове́нъ пречⷭ҇таѧ, пло́дъ твоегѡ̀ чре́ва.
Blessed be Thee, O Theotokos, who didst give birth to God, for Thou alone of all women didst bear the Begotten from the Trinity: Thy womb hath brought forth the Only-Begotten; Thou art blest, O Fruit of Thy Womb.