About the Resurrection, Death and Satan

Among the works of Rev. Ephraim the Syrian's hymns, madrashas, ​​treatises and letters stand out. Of particular importance are his “Nisibin Hymns,” which include the hymns “On the Resurrection, Death and Satan.” They reveal themes of eschatology, the struggle between good and evil, overcoming sin and Christ's victory over death. This publication presents a poetic translation of 7 hymns out of the 77 available. The hymns are full of vivid apocalyptic images, descriptions of hell and death. The main idea is the assertion that Christ, through His Resurrection, overcame the power of Satan and death, freeing humanity from eternal punishment and opening the way to eternal life. St. Ephraim the Syrian describes the onset of the end of times, when the Second Coming of Christ will occur, and the souls of all the dead will be judged and distributed between heavenly bliss and hellish torment. Through symbols and allegories, the author conveys dogmatic and ethical ideas. For example, Satan is presented as an enemy of the human race, seeking to confuse and lead astray, and death is personified as an inexorable force that destroys life. The hymns contain numerous quotations and interpretations of biblical texts that provide insight into gospel teachings and historical events. The book was published with the participation of the International Foundation “Slavic Revival” (General Director V. P. Nedelin) The Nisibin hymns, or madrashes, about the Resurrection, Death and Satan are one of the most significant creations of the great Syrian poet and mystic of the 4th century, St. Ephrem the Syrian (Mar Afrem Malfana). The hymns are full of vivid apocalyptic pictures, descriptions of hell and death, not inferior to Dante's. The book publishes for the first time a poetic translation of 7 hymns out of the 77 available. Mar Afrem of Nisibin or Mar Afrem Malfana (“Teacher”), called in the Greek and then in the Slavic tradition “Saint Ephraim the Syrian,” that is, “the Syrian,” was perhaps the most poetic of all Christian writers of Syria. He created a lot, in addition, in the Greek world many Greek-language sermons were attributed to him, which clearly did not belong to him, but were “overshadowed” by his authority. Unfortunately, the Russian reader knows only this “false” part of the corpus of Ephraim’s works and is almost unfamiliar with the works from the much more voluminous corpus of his genuine Syrian creations. The original writings of Mar Afrem were written in Syriac, a language belonging to the Semitic language family. The basis of the Syriac language was the Aramaic dialect of the city of Edessa (now Urfa in Turkey). It was in this city that Ephraim the Syrian created most of the hymns we now publish, and it was there that the saint ended his earthly life. According to the famous Russian syrologist A.V. Muravyov, “the Syriac language of Mar Afrem became a classic language for many subsequent Syrian poets. His works are included in all anthologies and textbooks of the Syriac language.” The Syriac language played a huge role in the flourishing of Arab culture and science: most of the works of Greek authors were translated in the Arab Caliphate not from the originals, but from Syriac translations. From about the 9th century. The Syriac language has ceased to be a living language, but Western Aramaic dialects close to it are still used in three rural settlements of modern Syria (the total number of speakers is about 2 thousand people). Ephraim the Syrian (Mar Afrem) made the Syriac language immortal. Mar Afrem was a poet par excellence and in his spiritual poems he could touch on the most complex issues of dogmatic content, illuminate the paths of ascetic work and prescribe the right direction of life. He was not at all an author detached from historical circumstances; on the contrary, he easily entered into polemics and every time warned about the destructive consequences of sin, placing ethics in the perspective of eschatology. The dogmatic-apologetic works of Mar Afrem usually include his hymns directed against the heretics Bar Daisan (Vardesan, ca. 154-ca. 225), Marcion, Arians and Sabellians, as well as the Epistle to Hypatius and Domnia, in which Gnostic and Manichaean doctrines are refuted. Adjacent to these works are Sermons on Faith, bringing Arians closer to contemporary Jews who rejected the Divinity of Christ, and Hymns on Faith, in which heaven, as the receptacle of God, is compared with created Eden, intended for Adam alone. In the Hymns of Faith, Mar Afrem opposes the intellectual comprehension of supernatural sacraments, such as the sacrament of the Holy Trinity, and the hidden dogmas of Christology. He says that these dogmas are inaccessible to intellectual comprehension and should not become the subject of empty philosophical debate. Most likely, the opponents that Mar Afrem Teacher has in mind are Hellenizing Syrian theologians, who borrowed from the Greeks not only the Neoplatonic philosophical apparatus, but also a penchant for lengthy debates about the meaning of abstract concepts. 1 This fact alone shows how difficult it must have been for the reception of Mar Afrem’s works in the Byzantine world: we can say that the Greeks, frightened by the difficulties that the assimilation of a system of thought that was alien to them entailed, preferred to simply attribute to Ephraim works that did not belong to him, mostly of an ascetic nature. Among the ascetic-mystical works of Mar Afrem, perceived by Greek-speaking readers only through multiple mediations and revisions, one should include the Hymns on Virginity, which served not only private, but also liturgical use in the monastic environment. Mar Afrem considers virginity a “sacrament” and “a sacred thing of Christianity.” Hymns about fasting, intended for liturgical singing during Great Lent, relate fasting to the plan of human salvation. Theological and ethical creations include, first of all, Hymns about the Church, in which the Church is understood as the fruit of the Savior’s suffering and the seal of His resurrection, and the most complex theological issue of free will and predestination is resolved. Hymns of the Nativity 2 speaks of the adoration of the Magi as a symbol of the future triumph of the Church - the symbolism of this hymn is based on the ancient custom of celebrating Christmas, the adoration of the Magi and Epiphany on the same day. 3 In the Syriac tradition, Hymns about the Holy Gifts and Hymns about the Crucifixion, containing theological and poetic interpretation of Christ's suffering on the cross, were combined into one collection. In terms of content, they are correlated with Hymns about the Resurrection, praising the descent of Christ into hell and the resurrection of Christ. Historical and eschatological works include the Hymns about the Church, 4 which describe the collapse of the anti-church plans of the emperor-philosopher Julian the Apostate (c. 330–363), as well as the Sibin hymns, which examine modern events through the prism of the biblical understanding of the will of God. Mar Afrem Malfana was a prominent exegete of the Syrian Church, he wrote a Commentary on the Diatessaron of Tatian the Assyrian, a Commentary on the Epistles of the Apostle Paul and a Commentary on the Book of Genesis and the Book of Exodus. The commentary on the Diatessaron has come down to us, in addition to the short Syriac version, in a more voluminous Armenian version, which, most likely, is either a translation of an unsurvived lengthy Syriac version, or is a free translation of the original Syriac version, expanded by additions and, possibly, interpretations of the Armenian translator. The commentary on the epistles of the Apostle Paul in Syriac has not survived and has reached us only in the Armenian version. This small book offers an "iambic" translation of passages from the Nisibin Hymns, which can be considered the pearl of Syrian literature. The Nisibin Hymns are one of Malfana’s most important works, created by him with the greatest soulfulness. The complete set includes 77 hymns, as well as several fragments. This work of Mar Afrem was first published with a parallel Latin translation in Leipzig by G. Bickell (1866). The second edition, meeting modern requirements for the scientific preparation of the text, appeared in 1961 in Leuven, edited by E. Beck, with a German translation (volume I: hymns I-XXXIV; volume II: hymns XXXV-LXXVII). The French commentary translation of the Nisibin Hymns, made by P. Feghali and C. Navarre, was published in 1989; we relied on this edition 5 in preparing our translation and clarifying all the “dark places”. Preferring a poetic translation to the “production” of a prose interlinear translation, we proceeded from the tragic sound of these hymns and the special spiritual sensitivity that was reflected in them. Mar Afrem, who did not know Greek, showed himself to be the “heir” of the Greek tragedians - Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides - in understanding individual suffering, as well as a master of description, whose pictures of hell anticipated Dante's. His work is imbued not only with exegetical height, which can be compared to the boundless sea, but also with a completely non-standard view of sacred history. Mar Afrem paints completely unusual and largely unusual images of hell and death in the Greek and Byzantine traditions. He also provides one of the most powerful and profound images of Satan in Christian literature. The main property of the hymns can be considered an unusual view of sacred history. Ephraim does not separate sacred, church and worldly histories, does not consider them heterogeneous. On the contrary, he argues that the entire history of mankind is in a certain sense apocalyptic, and every time in history a choice is made between the wickedness of hell and the saving simplicity of heaven. Nisibin hymns were created in connection with very important events in Syrian history. Hymns I to XXI describe the three sieges Nisibin endured during the war with the Persians (350, 359 and 363). They contain the names of the bishops who ruled Nisibin in these and later years: Jacob (before 338), Babui (?), Vologeses (346–361) and Abraham (347?). Unfortunately, the collection of Nisibin hymns available to the modern reader does not include hymns XXII to XXIV, since they were not in the manuscript used by Beck. Hymns XXV to XXX relate to the life of the church in the Syrian city of Edessa. In hymns XXXI-XXXIV Mar Afrem talks about paganism, which then still flourished in the city of Harran, located 45 kilometers south of Edessa. Vit. was bishop in Harran at that time. Hymns XXXV to LXXVII, which comprise the second volume of Beck's edition, are distinguished by their polemical tension. In these hymns, Mar Afrem polemicized with the Gnostics and other heretics who denied bodily resurrection (probably including the Manichaeans and “Neoplatonists”). Hymns XXXV to XLII tell of Christ's victory over Death and the defeat of Satan, hymns XLIII to XLIX talk about the goodness of creation and the meaning of bodily resurrection. Hymns LII to LXVIII, the climax of this cycle, are striking with hellish images drawn from Scripture using the exegetical techniques adopted in Syriac theology. The characters of this “tragedy” are Satan and his beloved – Death, Sheol (the underworld) and demons that frighten sinners. The image of Christ is unusual and also belongs to the tragic topic - He is depicted not as a triumphant over hell, but almost as a “divine rebel” who raised an uprising in hell and “stole” the souls of the dead. Hymns LXVIX to LXXVII tell of the end of human life and the immortality of the soul. The name itself, the Nisibin Hymns, probably did not belong to Malfana, but was conditionally given later, after the formation of the “corpus” of hymns. According to Beck, the hymns of this collection were created by Mar Afrem throughout his life, although the chronology of his compositions is not always clear. Hymns I to XXI were probably written between 359 and 363 (the year Julian the Apostate came to power). Hymns XXV to XXX were most likely written in the 370s in the city of Edessa. The remaining hymns were created in Edessa in the last years of his life, becoming perhaps the most mature and perfect composition of Mar Afrem. Thus, the hymns we have chosen belong to the most striking works of the "Syrian Dante", although the chronology of all other works of Mar Afrem must also be examined. Unfortunately, in modern Russia there are almost no prerequisites for creating a thorough scientific translation of the corpus of works of Mar Afrem Nisibinsky. And even if we set the task of translating individual works, the poetic strategy is not entirely clear. It is obvious that the “original size” translation adopted for ancient poetry and justified by the prosodic and syntactic similarity of Indo-European languages ​​(such as Greek and Latin, on the one hand, and Slavic, on the other) is not suitable for Semitic languages. Translators either try to choose a meter that is similar in auditory and rhythmic impression to Syriac verse (S.S. Averintsev), 6 or bring the hymns closer to the melody of Russian poetry of the 29th-20th centuries, while avoiding inappropriate metrical associations (Arch. Leonid Grilikhes), or they go for a bold experiment like translating Virsch's verse of Russian spiritual works of the 17th century. (A.V. Muravyov). 7 Our translation, which does not pretend to be scientific and is based mainly on the translation of P. Feghali, is a similar experiment. Each of these approaches may have its supporters, but the search for a suitable metrical matrix for such a complex genre formation as the hymns of Mar Afrem cannot be considered complete. In this translation, we do not pretend to have a final solution to the problem, but we strive to at least partially present the semantic richness of Mar Afrem’s imagery. We deliberately abandoned archaization in favor of searching for figurative correspondences in modern language. At the same time, we took into account the experience of translating ancient and medieval authors, since Ephraim’s exegetical poetics, that is, the motivation of images with biblical associations, is, of course, closer to Byzantine or European medieval spiritual poetry than to modern poetry, even of religious content. We also focus on the achievements of A.V. Muravyov, primarily on the desire to convey the liveliness and contrast of the historical narrative in the hymns of Mar Afrem. What we tried to avoid is “emotional empathy,” which could bear fruit in the romantic era (the best example of it is the translation of Homer’s Odyssey by V. A. Zhukovsky), but at present will look like an aesthetic failure and artificial conservation of formulas, even successfully invented, but not forming an integral context. A certain emotional monotony is also recognizable in the poetic translations of St. Simeon the New Theologian, performed by Archbishop Hilarion (Alfeev), and, despite all the achievements, there is a certain understatement in these translations. The most difficult thing in translating the hymns of Mar Afrem is conveying his style. Mar Afrem plays with contrasts, echoes of allusions to Scripture, the polysemy of words, and his stylistic play is much more subtle than that of Greek and Latin-speaking Christian poets, who were guided by ready-made cliches of rhetoric, from which genre conventions were formed. Poetry in Russian and European languages, inheriting the ancient genre canons, is not very susceptible to such a subtle style, which baffles any translator. We hope that our translation will serve to provide a deeper understanding of the heritage of the great Syrian theologian, ascetic and mystic. Whatever the shortcomings of our paraphrase translation, we hope that it will awaken interest in the peculiarities of Mar Afrem Malfana's exegesis and allow a better understanding of his poetic theology. Such an acquaintance with an author who is well-known, but whose legacy is still almost inaccessible to the Russian reader, can stimulate new research and new, more “honed” translations by professional syrologists, and in addition, inspire poets to participate in projects to translate ancient spiritual poetry. Antioch, Moscow, 2009 Dm. Gavros, D. Pospelov Praise and glory to Your all-incomparable Essence, The depths of which no one is destined to measure. May our ears be attentive, and the ears of all may not be led astray! 8 Who He is and with whom He is similar in appearance should not be sought. How can we imagine what Poznań can do? Does this Entity have any similarities with anyone? He is not contained by anything. He is all that sees and hears. He is the Logos wholly, and is wholly present everywhere. Our eyes cannot catch it, so that in our thoughts the image One like him, sculpture. This is impossible! Know that He hears without ears and speaks without walls, He performs deeds without hands and looks without eyes. The soul cannot be quiet, calm, silent In the holy presence of the One who bears this Image. In His mercy He clothed Himself in the image Our nature is to unite us all in His likeness. Understand that His essence is spiritual, of course. When she appears bodily, how pure she is! Even if she is quick-tempered to the point of anger, For our benefit, she only shows anger in herself. And it is only similar to our appearance for this reason, To be His image. After all, with Him only Only His Son, a child, is similar, showing a likeness in face. Nisibiya, listen, listen! For your sake, of course And I spoke and wrote for you and others. You have become like a spring of struggle and salvation in the world. The lips captive to sin wept inconsolably, Saved - at the celebration you were sung in songs. Mouths have been opened to you for weeping and praising. The prayer of your inhabitants once saved you - Just for the sake of their repentance, the trial was not fair 9 In proportion to their vileness, they learned punishment from the rod. But sins were mixed with good deeds. Their sins were countless, and their answer is greatness The fruits of all-good deeds, worthy of admiration. Having gained fame through wealth, let him have the same glory They will be worthy of the crowns that shine on their heads. The day when You save is the lord of the flashed days. The stronghold of the walls has fallen to the dust, yours, O Nisibiya, Under the fierce onslaught of the enemy, under the wrath of the desert hordes, But the invaders and murderers were defeated. On the day of the resurrection of the dead He will raise up Nisibiya, He will raise your fallen heights from the dust. He will exalt you like His Name on the immortal day. He glorified His Name - the hordes lifted the siege, Languishing with losses, they retreated ingloriously, Covering his honor and military valor with shame. You delivered Samaria, where famine reigned, from death, 10 And You filled it to the brim with sweet satiety, 11 It was as if the abyss had overflowed with holy abundance. The waves of enemies rose, the sea swell of the infidels, And covered Nisibiya with a myriad of walls of water. In Samaria a baby was torn to pieces 12 - the city was saved. 13 In Nisibiya they eat today the Flesh that life gives, And this Food immediately saves everyone who eats it. And without a doubt, God does not wish good misfortunes, But he only allows them to come to us. Our misdeeds are the root of evil, the cause of our misfortunes, No one can complain against the Creator, the Master. He deeply regrets our weaknesses and sins, They draw His involuntary wrath with them. And contrary to desire, He punishes, lamenting. Earth, olive and vine - and they accept punishment And sometimes they need cruel correction. The olive tree is struck with a pole, but its fruit is abundant, The pruned vine gives us beautiful grapes, And the juice of grapes softens our hearts. Plowed lands produce excellent harvests, Canals, glimpses of lakes, the desert is irrigated, Providing abundant water to thirsty fields. And polished copper, and silver, and gold They sparkle, reflecting shine, and delight the owner. Every mortal can only increase their wealth by correction. Abandoning work and throwing up my hands in despair, He will notice that everything around him has rebelled against him. God punishes only so that mortals learn To know the One who is punishing him here, teaching him. When He punishes, it is always for the greater good. So a man punishes his slaves for their own benefit, To save and preserve them. The owner of the house is kind He punishes his servants so that they humble themselves, They controlled themselves, never shying away from evil. Adversity in your memory, Nisibiya, let it become Like the letters of old books, speaking only the truth. Three sieges are enough for you, 14 so that they will appear for you They are like Scriptures, about which we meditate You will devote all your leisure time, because you previously despised Both Testaments: the Old, with it and the New as a whole, In which you could read about your salvation: He wrote these Books, mighty strongholds, They will not be shaken: you are about punishment in them You will read what you deserve and be heartbroken. Through what suddenly befell us, we can stop We are what can then overtake us in the coming century. Oh, let us accept our punishments so that future punishments Our souls did not become a scourge, the cruelest punishment; Let's remember past troubles so that future troubles And repel, and defeat, and destroy at once. When we forgot the cruel first blow of the scourge, The second one fell on us. But they also forgot the second one. The pain of the third overtook us. And who will forget her? Blessed is He who gave me victory, He gives life to the dead for His glory. Having hidden His power, the Lord was put to death, His life-giving death gives life to Adam. He gave His valleys to nails - holy hands, For the hand that plucked the fruit; gave his mouth to blows - Holy lips for the sake of lips that have tasted the fruit of Eden, And the feet - for the sake of the sinful feet of the exile Adam, Those who are deprived of the sweet Paradise are nailed to the Cross with a crumb. Divide the Lord, mockingly, for Adam's honor. Father, the wormwood taste of bile, 15 He knew to dilute The poison of the serpent is bitter, which has penetrated into human nature. “If you are God, show your power and glory, And if a person, endure cruel blows. Are you looking for Adam? Get away! Your hopes are empty! He is imprisoned here forever, and even the Cherubim And the rank of Seraphim will not redeem the sufferer What desperate dead man will give up the radiance of life Sheol will open her mouth to save him, Having penetrated it and returned back to the light of the sun? Sheol had already swallowed him up and locked him in prison forever. I gathered all the sages, I, Death, bound their host, And Sheol overflowed to the remote outskirts. O son of Joseph, come and see this horror. Having crushed the members of heroes, Samson's mighty camp, And I crumble Goliath’s bone, I am Oga the giant, The son of giants, like an iron throne for power Koval 16 - plunged from the throne into darkness and turned the throne over: At the gates of Sheol she humbled the proud cedar and cast it into dust. I alone fearlessly defeated thousands of mortals, Do you think you can defeat me, oh pitiful loner! All glorious men, fathers, priests, prophets, I took them to Sheol long ago, rounding them up like a herd. I also crushed kings, pushing their armies together, I humbled the giants with their great power, She gathered the righteous with a crown shining with nobility, So that the river of dead bodies overflowed and began to seethe It fell noisily into Sheol, crushing the fragile shore. But that stream did not quench Sheol’s burning thirst. It doesn't matter if a person is close to a dangerous current, Or, fearing, he moved away, the last hour He is carried away like a stream and carries him to the gates of Sheol. I don’t value the rich’s silver at all, I despise it Their gifts cannot bribe me; attempts are in vain. Even though they have thousands of slaves, I don’t listen to their pleas. Will the servant touch me, saving the master, Or the poor man will be able to plead, standing up for the nobleman, Will the child persuade, interceding for the elder? Let us suppose that the sages, having given free rein to their conviction, To persuade cattle to your words, but to the power of eloquence It is not destined to reach my ears, I do not listen to it. My name is “Hatred of supplication,” “Cruel to those who ask,” Whatever I am ordered to do, I always do. Who is he, and whose son is he, and from what family, That person who could overthrow me, destroy me? I own the eternal book of all living generations; I forced myself to read all the names in that book, Everything from Adam to this day. What a torment this is! There is no omission among the names, and not one of them is mortal Was not missed and forgotten, all knees are included In my, of course, being, in my, of course, essence. And only for You, Jesus, I re-read them, I didn’t miss it, I counted everything, I counted it reliably, To prove to You: no one escaped death. Let's not lie, two names are missing from Hell. Two: Elijah and Enoch with him were not cast into Hell. I also searched in the depths where Jonah disappeared, I looked everywhere I could, but I couldn’t find them. I believe that they have entered the Paradise of sweets And they eluded me. On guard at the entrance to Paradise The flame-winged Cherub stands awe-inspiring 17 Jacob saw a ladder stretched out on high: 18 Enoch and Elijah climbed along it to the constellations. Who will number the sand of the seas in order to steal from me Two tiny grains of sand? The most abundant harvest What is gathered by the sickle of my reapers, diseases, It grows every day and hour. But only I sheaves them I take it and put it in the granary, and with them the diseases: I bury the gravediggers-reapers themselves with their harvest, And the sheaf gatherers then disappear into oblivion. From a ripe sweet vine, forgotten by the winemaker, Two juicy berries then escaped my sight, But this is an insignificant part, because the harvest is huge! I hunt everyone, I guard my prey everywhere, On the swells of the sea, on the earth, - Death speaks with mockery, - Eagles fly to me from the vast expanses of the sea, I call sea monsters, feathered animals from the sky, I call the elders, the youths, the babies: let them prove Only you, O son of Mary, how omnipotent I am. Is Your Cross really capable of depriving me of that power? After all, he is made of wood: with wood I snatched victory! I wanted to continue speaking, but I give in to silence, Know that I have countless speeches and proofs, Why are choice words needed? Look at the deeds: Here are all of them, and they will put in a word for themselves. Yes, I do not, like you, instill in all simpletons and children I dream about resurrection. When will they be resurrected? Give me proof now, since You are so powerful, So that it would be handy to accept the dreams of future hopes.” Death fell silent, having finished his speech of contempt and ridicule, And suddenly in Hell, like thunder from heaven, the voice of the Lord was heard, It rumbled with peals and opened the graves with a cry. 19 And Death and gloomy Sheol, who know no light, Suddenly great fear seized, and the cohort of Angels The sparkling ones took the rays into their hands and entered the darkness, And before the face of the Dead Man, Who gives life, They raised the dead, shaking off the decay, and the dead were in joy They came out of the graves alive, stained with crimson shame The cheeks of those who vainly imagined that Life Itself had been killed. And Death, turning pale, says: “Where are the old times - The age of Moses - what a feast, what a great holiday Then the lamb gave me in the oases of Egypt: I took sweet firstborns, and mountains of children's corpses At the gates of Sheol, like food for a festival, lay But the Festive Lamb, alas, is welcome at the celebration, Suddenly my Sheol began to be robbed, He grabbed dozens And takes the dead, shamelessly kidnaps! That lamb filled coffins, beloved graves, And this impudent one empties the fullness of the coffins Oh, what a torture the death of Jesus is for me! I would rather He lived than died to my destruction! The rebellious dead man, His death is hateful to me, Death! Death is all delight to me, but His death is a temptation to me. I hope and dream: He will come to life any minute now, After all, being alive, He returned the breath of life to only three, He raised three dead. Now that He's dead By his death the dead became alive again, Me, the queen, cast into dust at the very gates of Sheol, They trample my feet every time I try to restrain them. Oh, close the gates of Sheol quickly Before this Dead One, His death is much more cunning than me. Let no one hear my shame now before the whole world! The dead man who came from outside enslaves me. All the dead strive for life, but He penetrated here. This Redeemer of life suddenly entered Sheol uninvited And gives life to the lifeless remains living here. But who allowed Him to enter here, hiding This living fire? He gently warms The cold and silent den of foggy Sheol.” In the lair of Sheol, Death suddenly saw the Angels, He sees immortals among crowds of emboldened mortals. “Confusion,” she says, “owns my shelter. Sheol is emptying, its dead are cast into the abyss. And the Angels descended into it, immortal creatures, Both this and that torment me. Look to the Tomb Angels approach - one suddenly sat down at the head of the room, Another sits at His feet, shining with wings. 20 I'll argue with them, maybe I'll persuade them to return, Soar to the heights of your kingdoms, taking trophies with you? Oh, do not reject me, good Jesus, for the audacity of speech, For my proud words: I spoke against You. Who, before Your honorable Cross, has even the slightest doubt? In Thy humanity and before Thy greatness Have you not accepted faith in Your Divinity? I am two natures I recognized in You: You are man and God of one essence. In Sheol, can a dead man be blessedly converted? Come, Lord, spreading repentance among the living. King Jesus, accept my prayer as a pledge Take a vow that Adam himself, walking with You, Takes away from the depths of Sheol, a wondrous promise: In it the dead fall to dust, and I'm just the same Everyone who lives is clothed with this vow. I know Adam is only a deposit, the one revealed by his body. Rise above the dust, Jesus, expand Your domain: When I hear the sound of the trumpet, the trumpet of the Holy Spirit, I myself, rising, will lead the dead to meet You. Our King has left the canopy of Hell, the sad limits, He exalted himself above everyone as the conqueror of Death. Oh, woe, woe will be those who are on the left: And the spirits of evil and demons, and Satan and Death, Sin, Sheol - the bitterness of torment, and joy - to those on the right. Let us sing a hymn to the immeasurable glory, the incorruptibility of Jesus, To the one who died and rose - give life and resurrection! Your cross broke Sheol like a burning goad. In vain the depletion of wealth in Sheol Death wept, losing its treasures forever without return. “Sheol, Sheol, who is taking away your wealth? Gehazi stole and was caught. 21 But every day I steal, Who could have grabbed me? I sneak to sick kings, Which are guarded, tightly closed around, by guards, The gates are reliably guarded by gatekeepers with weapons, But still I take the souls of kings and kidnap them. The barren among men mourn, live in sorrow, Only Sheol rejoices in its eternal barrenness, There is no way to give birth to him, otherwise he will be empty, He is doomed to let the most barren cold nest in his womb, And he will never reveal a single birth to his own. Rebekah, in the womb of two births, languished in suffering, From pain, death called to itself. 22 Sheol is a greater torment! He experienced unknown torments of childbirth: Like embryos, the dead in him arose at once, Tormenting the womb, they all strive for freedom. Isn’t that Isaiah’s verb, a prophetic word, Heard, heard here, and taken into account? Isaiah stood up and spoke prophetically: "Who has heard such a verb? Did it arise on one day Country? Were people born in an hour? 23 Was it really? Or is the ultimate meaning of Isaiah's words hidden? Or the shadows of those words? But, it’s true, I’m lying to myself that I’m a queen, Not knowing who I am now, a sharpener or a guard?” I heard two sacred Isaiah sayings, Everyone argued about them, and the debate continues to this day. “The Virgin will conceive and give birth to the holy Son,” 24 He also said: “And dust will give birth, for He was born of a Virgin.” And Sheol became pregnant and gave birth to God. And contrary to nature, suddenly the two wombs changed: And the Virgin's womb blossomed, and the womb of Sheol. For the Virgin there is joy, because she gave birth to a child to the world, There is sorrow in Sheol, for we are tormented by torments. From the resurrection of the dead in births to new life. Ezekiel 25 I saw in the wasteland of the plain 26 He gave life to all the dead, commanded skeletons, And I saw: piles of bones, trembling, came to life. Here you can hear the sound of dry bones in the gloomy Sheol, Each one finds her friend by knocking, Every joint is its own comrade. Will not ask: “Where is he, my friend? Will the scattered bones suddenly come back to life? No questioning. Jesus freely gives life to everyone. Only His sounding voice controls the entire Universe. Oh, sorrow for Sheol, he saw the dead rejoice, The host of sufferers is full of joy, not a single one is sad. Sheol wept about Lazarus: “How boldly he leaves! Walk in peace, O dead man, alive and full of life, You were mourned twice, before the grave and in the grave: My sisters wept when he entered my domain, Into the darkness of the grave, the second cry is my own, when he Left the twilight of the tombs, mourned by the living, He rises, I, Sheol, will never be consoled. Now I have fully known the pain of parting forever, Beloved, as you leave, I shed tears. Sheol is partial to the dead, and is cruelly attached to them. How precious their bodies are to those who gave birth to them, I stole them, And I crushed them into pieces, but now I am deprived of them! What pain is the passion of separation from the desired youth, Who has now risen and risen, depriving me of hope. I am separated forever from him, I am wasting away, I am in a fever. Blessed is He who suddenly took pity on the widow and the child He returned the only thing to her, returning the world to shelter. 27 The inconsolable pain that I brought To all people through the deaths of those they loved, Like a part of a rock on my head suddenly collapses with all its weight. People left Sheol, all as one were resurrected. Oh torture! - I'm alone now. Maybe someone calmly Look at the face of Sheol today, tormented by grief? The voice of the Lord opened the abandoned crypts of the tombs, Oh, the city of Sheol is devastated, all the inhabitants have fled. He who has read many books of the prophets listens About righteous wars; who looks at Jesus, He will know love itself, holy mercy. Who says that Jesus is not known to many people, This is an insult to myself, Sheol. No one else has the key to open the gates of Sheol, Only the key of the Creator, the Creator, opened them without effort, And so he left only for the sake of the coming of Jesus. And who is able to unite the torn limbs, Besides that force, the one that created them in the first place? Who can bring together disparate parts into one, What makes up the body? - The One who created them. And the image Can anyone restore it if not the finger of the Lord? He created, He also tore apart, but He is able to renew And resurrect to a new life. After all, no other god can To know creations, to recreate them if they are alien.” If someone were to be found here, another force of life, I would command her to quickly descend into the darkness of Sheol, Penetrate to its depths and survey everything at once. After all, God is one, and the dead, of course, were mistaken: “There are many gods” they believed, but in prisons The prisoners of Sheol, they were convinced of the opposite. Their gods were unable to take the sufferers from Sheol. I know that God is one, One and All-Powerful, I praise His apostles, I glorify His prophets. Blessed! Your Cross gives life to the prisoners of Sheol! “In the Sheol of Death the throne is strong, it has been established since ancient times, Only one Dead Man escaped and overthrew the throne of Sheol. Man has been afraid of me since birth, And I'm not afraid of any of them. Fear and worry are sharpening The living, and Death gives peace and serenity to the dead. One who was tortured and accepted death suddenly intervened There is a royal law in Sheol. Imprisoned in dungeons I am silent of all people, but I am captured in this prison One of the prisoners, He deprived me of my former power, He brought sad prisoners into the light of freedom, 28 And He raised them to the heights of Paradise, rejoicing. For many, I am the reason for tears, unceasing lamentations, And I cry for the sake of One, suffering inconsolably. Well, can any of the people like me be honest? Or achieve purity like I achieved? I am noble, I love all people without exception, And even the one who lies on me in vain, Admits: that from time immemorial I have never taken a bribe from anyone, Although they gave it, I didn’t take it. And among the sovereign kings Without taking anything for myself, I speak about equality. The rulers of the rich, their servants, one, I draw to Sheol. Find out - I serve God, my service is honorable, I judge without bias; I do not work for a reward. Who could endure everything that I have endured for centuries? They often mock me, but despite this, I do good and give out my gifts to everyone, They are returned to me in the darkness, in coffins—colorful wrappers. My work is for the benefit of everyone, but everyone reviles me. Let it go! Truly my spirit is calm, serene. Comforted by God - the spirit of Death - the most humble servant, Even though I endure persecution and reproaches every day. I deliver all elders from decrepitude, illness, Children - from all sin, the boiling of young blood, In Sheol the secret struggle between good and evil goes away, We have no evil here at all, only silent peace. Heaven's sky-high heights and my Sheol underground They do not know about evil. Only here, on this pathetic dust, Evil dwells and grows. And the one who threw the earth Moving to another world, it soars to heaven. And if he is unable, then he descends to Sheol, accessible to everyone. After all, if Death suddenly visits what kind of person, Everyone runs to console him, wipes away all the tears, Who will console me now? My abode of darkness Like the area of death, the dead are filled with the unfortunate, 29 But not a single one spared me even a word. Only the gloomy daimon muttered to me: “Be cursed by God.” Although Mary's Son was trampled under his heels, 30 He keeps his pride. And the great Serpent says, Depressed: “It would be better for me to fall on my face 31 in awe Before Jesus, the One whose Cross cast me down forever." The serpent said: “Only He will cross the dark threshold of Sheol, I will stand like John, proclaiming before everyone: “Look, He resurrects all the unfortunate dead!” I am Your servant, O Jesus, because Your flesh hid Heavenly flame of deity. And I blasphemed, you blasphemer! Do not be angry, O Son of the King, I am the guardian of Your treasures. Oh, command, I will spread my wings silently, I rush towards them at Your command To any land, to any distant country." Not all who are raised to life are the firstfruits. In Sheol the firstborn was our Lord and Master 32 How can a dead person, tell me, forestall that force? What brings the dead back to life? But there was the last - the first 33 And the youngest is the elder. The first to be born was Manasseh. But how did the poor wanderer Ephraim 34 steal seniority? After all, if the youngest suddenly becomes the eldest legally, Then on Sunday the Lord, the Son of God, became older than death. The herald came, John, who knew unconditionally That he himself comes after the One who has walked the path before. So John said: “A man comes after me, who He’s already ahead of me.” 35 How could a prophet become the first Before the Power Whose coming he announces magnificently? That which comes into being for the sake of that which came before, He will always follow him, but our God has taken the lead. The reason which John spoke and made known to us, She is older than the prophet, the First Cause of the world. Adam existed before, but all creation was created only for him. The Creator cast his gaze from above only on Adam, When he created the universe. Not yet created Adam was older than all creation, with this ultimate seniority Possesses our Lord, Christ, in the divinity of Christ All humanity is His, He is the eternal Fatherland. Glory to Christ His Father through the sonship of the Son. Praise be to You, for You are the first, my Savior, Lord, Both in His holy deity and in human form. And even if Elijah ascended to the heights first, Having gotten ahead of You, I could not achieve the Desired, The one he was looking for. But here is Your sacred And I will show the example and example of the heavenly truth! Its evidence is one, unfalse, constant: A series of secrets always leads, albeit incomprehensibly, To reality itself. All creation was created They were before Adam, but Adam was before all creation. And therefore, creation was created only for him. Lord, grant me the eternal light of Holy Sunday, For the sake of love, love alone, not just for the sake of meaning. By your will, you powerfully return To the darkness of life for all sinners, to the painful light! Iscariot would have preferred to taste death in Sheol, Why live in Gehenna and suffer. There is only mercy in You You resurrect me, Lord, and if justice It will not please, let Your goodness condemn me. In Your holy goodness alone You will remember me, After all, I placed all my hope in her, a sinner. Blessed be Whose heavenly voice split the crypts of Sheol! “I received, more than once, wounds from the righteous, But no one has harmed me like the Son of Mary, Severe and deep ulcers and unbearable pain. Yes, Elijah once revealed the radiance of the day to a corpse, The dead man left my border, but I did not grieve, And again she was completely consoled, having caught him a second time, After all, returning to life has not yet saved us from death. Elisha, the son of Shaphat, gave the two dead men 36 to hide, With two touches of the rod their secret escape was achieved. With one touch I delighted him from life, Swinging my staff, I stole it from the world And with them the corpses of those two that he raised to the light. Gehazi was a torment to me when I saw How he lays his staff on the dead face of the child, 37 Gehazi the thief took his staff and left the world of the living. Elisha the prophet appeared, humbled, he grew, This most amazing man hid in the depths of the desert! But I found him there too, I caught his look The one who gave life to the faded child. Oh, how happy I was, at least for a while, Not knowing that the rebellion of the dead will overthrow me. In my confusion I saw the light on the face of Moses, A blaze of glory. The first glance was filled with embarrassment, But the second one was fearless, the last one was deadly. When Moses appeared, spring was blooming in Sheol! I grazed on tender corpses, as in free meadows, Six hundred thousand 38, as one, then lost their lives. Then despised Jesus, both meek and powerless, Meant nothing to me. Let Him heal the sick, He raised up the weak and multiplied the bread of the people... And now he has deprived us of bread, taking away our food, Both Death and gloomy Sheol experienced the torment of famine. How loud was the triumph of moonless Sheol, When I brought down all the sons of Korah into the abyss. Satan gave me a great and luxurious feast, When he divided the Levites. 39 That's honey milk crin He beat me from the desert sands. And myriads of sinners They flowed into the gloomy Sheol. And now the right-wing crowds They will come from it alive to the radiance of life on high. Yes, Moses cast the living into Sheol, into the trap of death, But Jesus raises and the dead rise From death to sweet life suddenly, rising from the ditch of decay. Oh, how much happiness the day of the Zealot fanatics gave me, They filled my blades with crimson moisture! Zealot Phinehas, pierced with swift copper, He brought me a delicious dish at the end of a spear. 40 The interweaving of the voluptuous bodies of Zimri and the gentle Hazva They skewered me - two fat calves at once. And so I tasted Hazva, the boss’s daughter, Without touching Jairus's daughter, 41 Jesus stole away. Aaron's censer smoke 42 filled me with horror - He was victoriously confirmed between the dead and the living. But the worst torment was the Cross, it opened the entrances of the coffins 43. He, the Cross that brought death to Saint Jesus, Ruined me. Is that warrior ashamed of defeat, Over whom did the mighty brave warrior win? But I feel the greatest shame of my sorrow, After all, my power was defeated by the crucified Rebel. With Phineas's spear of sorrow I took away: The edge of the plague stopped the terrible raid. 44 That sword that guarded the tree of life for centuries, 45 The sword of consolation and sorrow deprived Adam of Paradise. Phinehas's dart separated the people from cruel death. But the copy that pierced Jesus on the Cross, 46 What unbearable torment pierced me! Christ was dealt a blow: I was deeply grieved. Blood and water flowed out of Jesus after death: Washed by them, Adam found life and was accepted into Paradise. The priests of my living lips were the Sadducees. My thoughts were chased by their scientists and their disputes, I, Wise Death, served as their leader: “There is no resurrection” - they confidently broadcast. But Jesus answered them with words from Scripture. I comprehended the meaning of the answer, and cried out in fear: He said: “I am the God of Abraham, of the living, not of the decayed!” 47 I would rejoice when the words are simple His sonorous words remained only a fairy tale. But He actually resurrected the decayed corpses of the fabric, And all his deeds cry out to Him for the Resurrection. Joshua's son rebelled against thirty kings, 48 That Jesus stabbed everyone, filling the darkness of the grave, And filling the crypts with rotting bodies, Having devastated Jericho, he sent crowds to Sheol. But then Jesus appeared and emptied the tombs, And he populated the Heavenly City. 49 There are similarities between them Only in the name of the person, not by deeds at all! Ahana 50 was the first to give, to the queen of corpses - a thief, The second one later kidnapped Lazarus from Sheol. Goodness merged with justice in Moses, He killed the Egyptian, 51 but saved an innocent people. But another commandment came to everyone from Jesus: “Whoever slaps you in the face, give him another Cheek humbly." 52 Run away from fierce hatred, Don't be a zealot, an ardent lion, a cold fanatic, Who torments and beats, takes life viciously, But show me the holy beauty of mercy. So proud Samuel executed the unfortunate Agag, 53 And our Jesus healed the paralytic with a word. 54 And the depletion of holy mercy grew, And now its indestructible fruit is abundant. But even now sometimes he is cruelly hated: “Do not follow,” they say, “the words and disposition of Jesus, Be ruthlessly strong!“ Saul, Ahab killed As those who showed affection for the unrighteous and the wicked, Death was a well-deserved punishment for them. But times have changed, it speaks in a new way To the tongues now Jesus: “Let every mortal live, And even let him show pity for his killer.” I will also remember Samson, that young skim, 55 That he destroyed all the onagers and gave them so generously By the gifts of all the Philistines; the river about Abner, About the son of Nir, who was a warlord, 56 Who took the trail of young Asael from the quick chamois, Sarui's son, 57, was carried away by the bloody hunt: The impudent Asahel was pierced and prostrated in the dust. At the altar of Benais, having despised the holiness of the church, Carrying out retribution, he cruelly killed Joab. 58 Scripture speaks about this: read and reflect. But the sword that destroys justice now hides in its scabbard, The repentant round dance blithely dances with the Good. David humbled the Moabites and measured them with rope 59 Their fate was cruel, and they lost their sweet life. You are merciful, you are meek, O heavenly Son of David, To the one who doubled the retribution with double punishment, Having measured out two ropes for death captured sections, With one rope for the life of husbands - he said quietly David, the most heavenly Son: “Forgive your brother Seven times seventy." 60 David meted out justice. And Jesus Himself is goodness that knows no measure. David's share was burning jealousy, He cruelly killed the lion of the desert and the wolf, 61 Leaving the skimna, he accepted the challenge of the martial artist Mighty, and from a sling with a swift fragment He suddenly extinguished the radiance of the day for Goliath, Life flew away from him, heading towards death, But Jesus, raising his voice, addressed the corpse: “Oh young man!” 62 For to Him those who sleep are like those who die. 63 Having stolen the young man from death, He gave him the light of life, But drowned in the swells of the sea in the great lakes of the desert He is a disgusting pig, full of vice. 64 The Golden Calf was the cause of the death of the Levite They carried it to brothers and fathers, 65 despising their own blood. So Jephthah killed his own daughter with his own hand, 66 The king of Moab made a bloody sacrifice on the wall The first-born baby, 67 not sparing your child, Taking only a sword for consolation. But Jesus came He took the sword into the valley and suddenly dulled the edge with love. He humbled his sister Sheolova - immobilized the fever, And Peter’s mother-in-law rose and gained health. 68 Sheol immediately fell into weakness because of the healings of God, Because of the miracles that Jesus performed out of mercy. Holy Jesus proclaims kindness to all, The Son of the Just Father brings justice. But for me all His kindness is nothing but torment. After all, black jealousy is always sweet and kind to me, And it gives me joy. After all, it once spilled The first blood is because of her... And what is my mistake, O Son of Mary, why did You command with all authority: “Do not be angry with your relative and brother, 69 A beloved brother will not take out a sharp sword from a knife against brother." After all, Cain’s blade was my first happiness. Samson, the mighty warrior, suddenly found honey in the lion's corpse, What was the sign of that sweetness that was sharpened In the remains of life? Jesus multiplied the signs: I am drowning in the abyss of His secrets: parables about the resurrection, Like a shadow of a restless vision, like a speaking image. “From the devouring suddenly food miraculously appeared,” - Samson asked everyone a riddle. The riddle has changed: “Behold, the devouring of death, emerges from death,” From my food suddenly came something that ate me: I was devoured by Adam, the Son born of Adam. Sometimes all the righteous people wounded me with a word: They, rejoicing and noisy, shouted about Resurrection, But the power of their consolation interfered with my tears: Asa 71 sent forth prayers, Hezekiah prayed He strove his own to the Lord, and their death was postponed, 72 But she waited passionately for their corpses; here Elijah stabbed 73 Baal priests and brought them to me by the stream, These who have been fattened with bread for the evil of Jezebel. But I learned to starve, I was deprived of all food The righteous themselves: I hungered and wandered. Then Jesus forced everything that he swallowed, greedy, Back to the light to vomit, people are the sweetest dish. Purifying blood is like an inescapable horror to me, Moses anointed the doors of the Jewish houses with it, And the blood preserved the lamb from the death of those living in them. But what does blood mean to Death - besides bloody signs? On the doorposts of houses and on the Cross of Suffering? This is a delight for me, this is the incense of the slain, The fragrance of dead bodies and the melting of corpses. But the blood that Jesus shed fills me with horror. When I inhaled the smell of her, it was unbearable, The Spirit of Life blowing over her filled me with fear. All those priests, kings, anointed of God, What were the origins of the mysteries of Holy Sunday, Having raised the cross, they did not gain even a small amount of wealth. Crowns lie on their heads, tiaras sparkle. And yet I am struck back. The carpenter's son 74 was crowned with a diadem of thorns, But he crushed my head, he brazenly beheaded Death, Even though He suffered decline and a disastrous fate, His sacred face plunged Sheol into fear and trembling. The face of Moses frightened the waves of the deep sea, Made the sea recede in awe of the rod, That the glory of God shone in the right hand of the prophet. I have seen His greatness, a wondrous rod, power from God, What broke the fortress of the rocks. Sheol's Tombs The unfortunate Jesus broke, deathly pale, stunted, No sight of glory, no lightning, no heavenly radiance It wasn’t on Him then, but even in this guise He aroused fear in Death. The color of a deathly face, The color of death itself struck Sheol like the shine of a weapon... So the dead God Sheol killed. And what threatens in the future In glory Jesus comes to give life to the dead.” Blessed is He who smashed Sheol's deceit to dust. Oh, how great is the cruel shame and humiliation The most insidious Satan, despised by God! But he stands before the servants, filled with pride, He sprinkles their lips with graceful speeches, With his immeasurable eloquence he convinces: “My wisdom is partly generated only by nature, For the most part, it is the fruit of priceless experience, Perhaps, even in its entirety, it is the result of knowledge. I learned everything, of course, myself. I reasoned, I thought, Without a teacher I acquired the vastness of all wisdom, And here I am in knowledge, like in armor, perfectly armed, I am completely filled with the brilliance of armor of immeasurable greatness. Oh, human race, you alone crowned me with victory, Decorating my knowledge with a sparkling crown. The Pharisees all dressed in my outfit of hatred, In the garb of evil they attacked Mary Holy Son; I instilled in them cruelly gloomy anger, And he fell like a hail of sharp, well-aimed darts On Jesus. Their insolence pursued Him, the unfortunate one, Their fury rushed predatorily, their slander tormented them, Like a heavy oppression she exhausted Him all the time, Their envy, anger, false ardor, which is called “jealousy” - Predatory jealousy - everything, everything, fought with Him mercilessly, Their blasphemous bile threw stones at Him. He, the Doctor, came to His sick, bringing healing with Him, I prompted the sick to rebel so that the Doctor would be overthrown. But He was insensitive to cruel accusations. And I resorted to slander, I hid behind it, I slandered him and multiplied my lies, But I see: the flower of my lies has withered, withered, and insolence Alas, mine is recognized, and words are despised Mine are forever given. But I found shelter for myself, Hidden in the duality of words, in the ambiguity of speech. I sent the Pharisees' snare speeches to Him, I decided to catch Him skillfully in syllogisms, But my long labor, like dust, sparkling in the ray, melted away, He remained a straw, a meaningless toy. And His Truth, like light, spread everywhere. Athlete saw one, a mighty ruler, He shone with his skill, great in the art of warfare, And even the Serpent, who is outside the worlds, fears his power. But rage rules all his hidden inclinations, The temperament is unrestrained and unbridled, like a snake. He is consumed by deadly desires. Afraid He is afraid of fever, feverish delirium. But I took refusal to perform as a medicine for myself He is the sacred commandment. And now, his mockery It strikes mercilessly and hits and turns into ashes, And love passion destroys and destroys secretly, And the most poisonous tongue, the most bitter goad, He hides under the cover of his lips, ready to kill. But he is not crazier than the one who talks about despicable blood He cares more than about his entire unfortunate soul. Every day he checks the safety of his bags, Over their contents, the fool, he, obsessed, withers away. But the invisible moth, like a scab, hides on the body. He prepares luxury clothes with elegant edging, But his spirit hangs like a torn robe. It illuminates the chambers with an abundance of lights, But he keeps his heart in darkness and hopeless gloom. He opens the curtains on the windows, only feelings He locked his own and closed it. And it closes firmly The doors are locked, he guards his acquired money, But the gates of the mouth are wide open, and the thought is like a bird, It flutters out and then flies far away. A madman, he values his cattle even more, Than yourself. He cares more about her Your most unfortunate soul. He sows the land Its finest grain, carefully selected. But in the heart the chaff and weeds alone grew magnificently, Reason is abandoned and forgotten, trampled and desecrated. He fences his vineyard in sweat, He carefully looks for better vine cuttings, And his mind is like the vines of the Sodom hills. The mule does not dare to set foot here, his dear field, But the thicket boar digs through the mind, gnawing away at thoughts. 75 For mortals - the crucible is hot and I melt the mind. Having fired up my mind, I explore desires: The enchanting deceptive shine of the toys I cast, Like a Chaldean glassblower, I convey skillfully. I add some truth, and my graceful lies Of course they do. I blinded Egypt cruelly - I showed swarms of midges, insignificant insects, 76 They did not immediately believe him willingly. Having covered their eyes, he taught them the signs of the Zodiac, Although those signs never appeared in the sky. I quickly take off and watch vigilantly, And I tell the predictors everything that happens, They, deceived by me, call me “prophet.” I boldly revealed things to myself in an instant, Hidden from mortal eyes, shrouded in mystery. I can confirm what is true, trust me, So it was with Job, and it was a lie, and so it was with Saul. I made the prophecy of misfortune visible to Saul, 77 Job is blessed, like metal under the polishing of flour, 78 shone with a bright radiance and was glorified by this.” Blessed is He who exposed the machinations of all the evil ones. The devil-tempter of the rivers: “I fear Jesus, After all, He destroys all the fruits of my deeds. I was born hundreds of thousands of years ago, constantly I created without rest and without sleep. Everything I planned, I accomplished, I never missed a beat, He seduced everyone and gave them over to lies. And He comes brazenly, And He makes those who have been corrupted by me holy again. Oh, what sorrow! What a pain! Destroys my creations. And how much work, and knowledge, and diligence it requires, To embroider a subtle evil pattern on the surface of the universe, Decorating the fabrics of existence with this hellish embroidery. I competed in running against the fastest of mortals. I have surpassed them all. I was a skilled warrior. My weapon is the murmur of crowds and the indignation of hosts. Excitement began to exist. Then comes into force The bestial ferocity of the masses and the rage of the fierce multitudes. United them, obliged and inspired their violence, I raised a mountain to the heavens with the valleys of nothingness: The bulk, the towering tower, disappeared into the clouds. 79 The architects fought then: the sky was challenged! But will hundreds be able to overcome Him on the mortal coil? Centuries pass, times. Servants change too Mine, therefore, the attacks are always different. Once upon a time the people of Israel “There is one Lord!” 80 heard. And this people showed themselves to be a divine assembly. And, having seen the Son of God, he gained protection and strength In the One God, thinking that God is one and eternal. But even in his refuge he forgot about God. He knew that God is always one, and about the One God Drawn by jealousy, he spoke with ardent lips. But for the most part these people were deeply flawed. Without God, he exalted God, not knowing about the One. Born before all eras, I became skilled with people: I always adored children and did not disdain them. Believe me, I still spend a lot of time on them. From the moment I was born, I rooted filth in them, I cultivate vile habits and bad inclinations. Their flaws and shortcomings grow with them, Their vices multiply, the fruits of dashing habits. But the most unreasonable fathers, vicious to the limit, Do not worry about the murderous seed in children. Others, smart, always, like a good farmer, They eradicate the spiritual defects of their children. Human laziness - you will not find a rein that is stronger than it. I bind people with the chains of an idle life. I stole their feelings, took the good with me, He removed their eyes from books and their lips from praise. I left their minds without God-thought. Diligence They are fond of vain fables, 81 they are skilled in idle talk. When suddenly the holy word of life appears to them, They leave him, rejecting him with indignation. Oh, how many demons, look, swarming in a person! But man only curses Satan. Human anger is an evil, insidious, persistent demon. After all, this demon attacks mortals every day. Wandering demons, believe me: if they receive you poorly, Or they angrily insult them and leave, saddened. But the demon of anger is not like that, you can’t drive him away like that: It penetrates deep into the soul, crawling deep. He lives in spiritual darkness even at the hour when the saints They drive him out, out of the human heart. For the rage he caused, the murderous vengeance, I am forever hated, the devil, we condemn, Although I myself, alas, am painfully sad, And I am weak and pitiful, desperately weak-willed. Shame on all magicians and wise men, skilled sorcerers And to those who conjure snakes, who play with the adder! Those who bewitch snakes, taming them every day, They cannot conquer the cobra that nests in their soul. They cannot control themselves. Sin hidden in them, like an adder, It flies up and kills them. May the exorcist have power, Takes flesh with the hand of a cobra, impeccable in art, But sin, hissing, suddenly strikes a mortal blow in the back. His spells - snakes of the body pleasantly relax And they pacify the predatory temper and the current of deadly poisons, But the magic that a skilled spellcaster performs The sacred wrath of heaven inflames against him. In an ambush with a light dart, I sit and wait. Who, tell me, is patient like me and tireless?! [Wine and the devil's dope... They are my snare!] 82 I sat down with the sick man next to me, and now he was seduced. He gave in to despondency. And the one who regrets About the sins he committed, the ugly offenses, He keeps up with all his bad habits. I am slowly dragging him into the hell of pleasures, So that, like a meska, you can lay a heavy yoke on top, And he takes it with his yoke, he is drawn to him passionately, And he never wants to gain freedom. I tracked down the one in whom the disease lived, I smelled it, And now I will do with him according to my will. Let him experience everything, painful victim. I conquered Adam's mind, he was a solitary I let him experience passion, and then fatherhood. I was looking for something to do, something to have fun with. I numbered the sand of the sea to strengthen my patience, And with that, having tested your memory, you will achieve perfection. And now my memory is great and boundless, And isn’t she capable of all the multitudes of people? Hug? After all, I counted them before they were born With the sand of raging seas, with the sand of troubled swells.” But Satan's servants are noisy; they argue among themselves, And they object and question the words His crafty ones, refuting their essence and meaning. They say: “Elisha the prophet restored his breath He died, and he struck down Death in the high room, When the child he returned the widow to the radiance of life. 83 But still he himself went to Sheol and did not escape death.” But Satan defeated them, opposing them skillfully, He supported his strong argument with his own speech: “Well, was Elisha the prophet defeated, defeated? Although he himself is in gloomy Sheol, his bone is in the grave The light of sweet life mysteriously bestows upon the dead. 84 Although Elisha was small in stature, bald and homely, But he is great in his strength in the gloomy Sheol, After all, he raised one of the irrevocable dead. But how many dead will come to life after the death of Jesus, After all, He is great in power, immeasurable in greatness!? Oh, compare, Jesus is stronger than us, oh friends, After all, He skillfully lured you into secret snares, And you are unable to comprehend the unearthly greatness, His greatness rose above the height of the prophets." Such speeches of Satan bring to his friends The news is hardly consoling, rather they are frightened. “Who gave life to the body of a dead man, Who raised Lazarus, - Will such a one accept death? After all, He is stronger than her! Or will He be a slave of Death? After all, Death is His slave Ah, beware, friends! It wasn't in vain His frightening death. He, having died, will come To resurrect Adam to life by abducting him from Sheol.” Death looked out from the lair, from the gloomy chasms. Oh, surprise! I saw Jesus on the cross. “So this is where You hang now, O Resurrector of the dead! Both You and You will come to me, and I will be satisfied with You: You will replace my beloved Lazarus with yourself, dear. 85 My lips still retain the pleasant taste of Lazarus... But let Jairus' daughter 86 see Your cross now, Let the widow's son 87 cast his gaze upon the crucified body. In ancient times Adam was captivated by a tree in the gardens of Eden, And the Tree, that which embraced, lifted up David the Child, Blessed will be henceforth, and now, and forever.” And again Death opened his wicked lips in words: “O Son of Mary, now remember Moses: And he was the best of husbands, he was revered by everyone. He created the divine, like God, containing everything. He killed the elders of Israel, saved the firstborn of the innocent, He stopped the terrible pestilence. I climbed Sinai, Follow him up the mountain to the very top. But God gave it to me, handed it over from His hand to His hand. May God be blessed, may God be glorified! Adam's son's destiny was one greatness. But Moses was taken from the dust, and to dust he returned.” 88 Rejoicing, the proud Satan appeared with his servants, He descended into Sheol in darkness to see how it would be There Jesus was cast down, our Lord was cast out, With Death, his sweetheart, he rejoiced in his heart. But she sees: her eyes are in tears, she grieves and cries. What happened? The mountain cry of the Eternal One rang out, Like the firstborn's unbearable cry. And the dead have risen Having undertaken a daring escape from gloomy Sheol. The evil one wanted to console his mistress. He whispered: “My dear Death, you have gained more, What have you lost, because Jesus Himself appeared to you. And others like Him will come, and those who lived before And those who will live later, oh, do not suffer in vain. Reveal, beloved, His face to us quickly, don’t delay, So that we can see Him and have a good laugh. We will tell him, believe me: “Well, where is Your strength? Three days passed so quickly... And what do you say to that?” We also note: “It’s already the third day, my friend, come to your senses!” After all, on the fourth day You raised Lazarus, my favorite... So now resurrect Yourself! Or is it beyond our strength?’” Death opened the darkness of the gates of deep Sheol, And the face of the Lord shone beyond the darkness of cunning Death. Like the Sodomites, they were all struck together with blindness, 89 And Satan and his host, blind to the touch They looked for the copper gates of Sheol, but still did not find them. These were probably the "Anomeans", extreme Arians, who insisted on the essential otherness of the Father and the Son; The Anomeans were not strict Arians, although they belonged to the Antiochene theological and exegetical school of Lucian, related to Arius. The founder of Anomaeanism was Aetius, who began his preaching in Alexandria (356) and soon after moved to Antioch (Syria), where he had significant success and gathered a group of “Tiasots”, among whom Eunomius, later Bishop of Cyzicus, especially stood out. Aetius viewed Christian teaching as a space for dialectical exercises; He expounded the doctrine of God using geometric figures. He owns a famous phrase that his disciples loved to repeat: “I know God as well as I don’t know myself.” Fragmentarily translated by Fr. Leonid Griliches: Ephraim the Syrian, "Hymn (Madrasha) for Christmas", trans. with sire., intro. article by prot. Leonid Grilikhes, Theological Bulletin, 5–6, Sergiev Posad, 2 oo6, p. 17–41. Epiphanion or theophany, January 6. Translated by A.V. Muravyov: Mar Afrem of Nisibinsky (St. Ephraim the Syrian), Julian cycle, Moscow, 2006 (series “Smaragdos Philocalias”). Saint Ephrem, Les Chants de Nisibe, traduction de Paul Fhegali et de Claude Navarre, Paris: Cariscript, 1989. S. S. Averintsev, Collected Works, vol. 2: Translations: A Pearl of Great Price, Kyiv: Spirit and Litera, 2004, p. 11–58. Translated by A.V. Muravyov: Mar Afrem Nisibinsky..., p. 77–135 (see note 4 on p. 10). Hymn III celebrates the liberation of the Syrian city of Nisibina as an event whose echo reverberates throughout the universe. Probably an allusion to the passage about the repentance of Nineveh: Jon. 3 (not marked by P. Feghali). Through the intervention of the king; 2 Kings 6:30. This refers to the three sieges experienced by Nisibin. Ezekiel; "Ezekiel" metri causa. OK. 8:41; Mk. 5:22.38; Matt. 9:18, 23 . The line is not read; here is our proposed reconstruction.