Poems: Poems Concerning Himself (Book II, Volume I)

^A at the mist. For such is the race of mortals, and such, too, is prosperity—prosperity like the faintest tracks of a ship, 95 marked out in front, yet perishing behind. The only glory that was dear to me was that of letters, which the East and the West and the pride of Greece, Athens, had gathered for me. I labored long at these for much time, yet even them I laid prostrate on the ground before Christ, 100 having yielded to the Word of the great God, who encompasses all the varied and winding speech of the human mind. But these things I escaped, yet this I did not escape: the treacherous hate of an enemy lurking under a friendly countenance. ^B I will speak out openly my woes to all, 105 so that one may shun the designs of the crafty beast. I was sitting by my parents, O King Christ, who were oppressed by melancholy old age and grief, and of whom I alone of their children remain, a frail hope—a small light left over from a great lamp that is now no more— 110 thinking to do what was pleasing to Thee, Blessed One, and to Thy laws, Thou who didst grant to mortals to have help in their children, to serve them as a staff for their trembling limbs. For indeed, above all those who honor Thee and occupy themselves with piety, they have escaped the 115 hardships of a painful life and have tied their moorings to Thy pure laws. And Thou art for them both the end and the beginning.

^A She, indeed, drawing a faith pleasing to God from her fathers, encircled her children with a golden chain, bearing a masculine spirit in a feminine form, 120 touching the earth and the concerns of the world only so much as to push all this life forward toward heavenly life, and to lift a light wing toward the ether. But he was formerly a wild olive tree among idols, but he was grafted into the root of a beautiful olive tree, 125 and drew so much from the noble root that he covered the trees and satisfied many with honey-sweet fruit; grey in mind and grey in head, gentle, sweet-spoken, a new Moses, or some Aaron, 130 standing between mortals and the heavenly God, and with our pure mysteries and sacrifices—such as a pure soul offers from within— ^B uniting mortals and the great immortal God into one.

Of such a father and mother, whom it is not right to compare with others, although I do not forbid comparison between them, 135 I, caring for and tending them as they labored, warmed my mind with hopes, as one fulfilling some most excellent duty and discharging the debt of nature. Yet this ^C is true, that the path of the wicked is filled with pits, inasmuch as even for me evil has come from good. 140 For indeed, dense and grievous cares, gnawing at my soul and limbs night and day, drag down my mother from heaven to earth. First, to rule over servants—what a net of destruction! For they always hate harsh masters, 145 but they trample upon the holy with shamelessness, nor by evils...

METRICAL VERSION

She indeed, drawing the pious seeds of faith from her fathers, bound the necks of her children with a golden chain, bearing in feminine form a masculine mind and spirit, touching the earth and the fleeting affairs of the world only so far as to bring forth all its wealth for heaven, and light to fly toward the stars. But the father before this foully worshipped idols. Yet afterwards, being a wild olive grafted into the beautiful olive tree, he drew so much from its rich root that he overshadowed the high cedars, and honeyed foods for many—foods which satisfy souls and lift them to the ether—he offered, both grey in mind and grey in head: gentle, sweet-spoken, a new Moses, a second Aaron, standing as a mediator between mortals and the supreme Divinity, and through pure prayers and through solemn sacred rites, and by those things which a soul well-conscious performs for itself, binding men and God in a certain covenant of friendship. This is the stock of my lineage, these gave me life and light, ^B with whom it is not right that anyone be compared, yet as for both, nothing forbids them to contend between themselves for such great praise. These, therefore, as they were weighed down by the mass of their labors, I, being solicitous, cherished with joyful hope in my heart, insofar as I was performing an excellent duty and paying the laws of nature; but naturally, that is true, that the whole way for the wicked is full of evils: since this laudable office brought me harm, and the best of things had an unlucky end. For difficult cares, rushing in a dense troop, gnawing at the soul and dissolving the limbs, incessantly roll me down to the earth, from which the mortal race was created, and miserably wear me out. For first, to bind servants under one’s command, what a snare of destruction it is! They who always hate harsh masters, but impudently trample upon the pious, nor...

yield to the good; but against both, they breathe forth stings of wrath beyond measure. ^A And then, to manage one’s own property, and to ever bear the weight of Caesar upon one’s shoulders, and to endure the harsh summons of the tax-gatherer—(for the tax disgraces the free day of men, following after possessions, and a shackle lies upon their lips)—and to be busied about the noise of the crowded forum, and high seats, and mortal judgments; and to endure the turmoil of opponents with pleadings, ^B or to suffer pains in the tangled snares of laws, where there is struggle and labor, and the bad have more than the good, and the advocates of the laws are bought by both; but if a wicked man has more, this man is best. Who could avoid so many lies and treacherous deceits ^C without God, among such men? For it is necessary either to flee headlong, casting away all things, or to have one's own dear heart darkened by sins, as those who approach the harsh breath of a raging fire, or smoke, carrying away grievous signs. ^D But these things are bearable. Yet this wound is more painful to me, all that I suffered after my brother departed from this life, and I expect to suffer yet more. For those who have approached unhoped-for calamities do not imagine better things.

^A While he lived, I possessed a glory that comes from others; for neither did wealth ever capture my mind, nor any power. But I alone received sorrows and lamentations when he died. Whatever wealth had been amassed, the earth took part of it, opening wide when Nicaea collapsed in tremors; the rest, a daemon placed as prey into the rapacious hands of the wicked. ^B Yet he himself, hidden away, escaped death, as God stretched forth His hand from heaven over the roof where he was. O my Caesarius! Before this, though, you shone in the royal halls like a morning star, a venerable name, bearing the highest honors of wisdom and of lovely character, and flourishing in the friendship of many powerful companions. ^C You found remedies for the many and grievous bodily diseases of many; you also provided a solution for the poverty of many, doing noble deeds. But now, having died, you have satisfied the [many] dogs who bark at me, standing round on every side; and no one comes to aid me. For few are they who love like those hostile to me. ^D They honor before they receive, but once they have received, they hate. Just as when a high-leafed oak is felled by the violence of the winds, others from all sides snatch away the branches; or as when a wall is smashed, passers-by ruthlessly harvest the great vineyard, and a solitary wild boar, coming from the woods, mangles it with its tooth; so to me the labor is grief-laden. Nor does the strength of my hand any longer suffice to satisfy all, nor to ward them off. For since first, having severed [my life]... [alt-version omitted]

^A from the body, the lofty mind having carried me away placed me far off, 195 having raised me thence, it hid me in the recesses of the heavenly tabernacle; and the light of the Trinity shone upon my eyes, than which I have perceived nothing brighter, 200 high-throned, shedding a common and ineffable radiance, which is the source of all things, so many as time holds off from on high. From that time forth, I have died to the world, and the world to me; and I am a living corpse, and my strength is as that of dreams. My life is elsewhere, and I groan beneath a heavy body, 205 which the wise call the darkness of the mind. And I long, having been released from this life and from sight that is mist-covered, and from those who walk on the earth and those who wander and are wandered, to behold standing more purely, no longer with dim ^B 210 eyes those things which are mingled with idols, as before, and by which even the gaze of the sharpest mind is led astray, but beholding the truth itself with the eye of a pure mind. But those things are hereafter: yet things here are worthless smoke, or dust, to those who have exchanged the great life of existence, 215 high [for things] of the earth, and the stable for that which perishes. Therefore all have rushed upon me, nor do they wish to withdraw, hastening toward their readiest prey. Alas, alas, Caesarius, sad dust, who kept the whole crowd away from me, granting to avoid every burden; 220 honoring as no other man yet honored a brother, and revering as if one were deeply loving his own father. Yet I do not so much lament the dissipated wealth, ^C nor even if life is scattered—

as I desired to have it in common with the poor, seeing that I myself am a stranger and an exile here, looking to the ^A hand of the Most High, the giver of good things; not even because of the injury—hateful to all mortals, which most readily fills even a gentle man with anger—nor because of my brothers, whom the tomb now covers, snatched away by an untimely death, and marvelous to all men; but rather do I lament my soul as one might see a lady, beautiful, great, and born of noble kings, ^B laboring in heavy, inescapable chains, whom enemies have taken with the spear and bound in cruel slavery, and she fixes her saddened eyes upon the earth. Such things have I suffered; such a wound do I bear within my heart. It is an ancient saying that if a bitter ^C serpent has struck a man with its tooth, he wishes to speak of the lethal wound only to those to whom the baleful serpent has also wiped off its bane with fiery bile. For they alone are understood to know that evil pain, and so I, too, shall recount my labor ^D to those who share my love, my common evil, and similar pain. For they alone would kindly receive my tale and best understand the mysteries of a grieving heart; those who desire to take up the weight of the cross upon their shoulders and, having a share within the enclosures of the great King, love their journey and pity those who fall. To others, I would be a subject of laughter were I to speak my griefs, for their faith has only lightly grazed the surface of their hearts.

^A Nor has a sharp longing for the King penetrated my inmost soul; 250 for they live here only thinking of the things of a day. But let them perish, since they all alike sharpen their tongue, a most ready weapon, against others, whether good or evil. As for me, I shall not cease from lamentation, until I have escaped from this grievous wickedness 255 and placed a bolt upon the wanton passions of my mind—to which the bitter Satan now has thrown wide all the gates, though before they were fastened, when the hand of God protected me. Nor did malice have an occasion near at hand, which most swiftly 260 attaches itself—just as the might of fire near stubble—until it is even raised by the wind into the air as flame. How I wish that I had hidden my body before these events in deep ravines, and amidst mountains and crags! For then, fleeing the whole of this life, and its cares, and the cares of the flesh, ^B I would have borne Christ entirely within my mind, living apart from others, 265 lifting up a pure and new mind to God alone, ^B until I might have reached the goal even with light hopes. I wish I had; but the longing for my parents held me back, ^C dragging me down to the earth like lead; and not so much this desire as pity, which is the gentlest of all passions, 270 wounding deep within my marrow and my very vitals—pity for the white-haired, god-like ones, pity for their sorrow, ^D pity for their childlessness, and again for their child, for whom they tremble, ever having a sweet labor, the eye of their life, and grieving at his pains. 275 Formerly, my books were my care, which the Spirit traced for us with the tongues of holy men, and within the noble letter

^A of the Spirit, the flashing grace and hidden profit, revealed to the pure of heart. Prayers and beloved groanings, and sleepless nights, 280 and angelic choirs, who with psalms stir up God, standing and sending souls to God in hymns, chanting with many mouths a common voice. The toil of the belly, that source of evils, and the measure of laughter, the stillness of the tongue and eye, and the rein of maddening 285 anger. Reason, too, used to tighten the wandering mind that gazed in every direction, and turning it toward Christ with heavenly hopes; Reason presided over all, leading the image toward the King, and God took delight in this movement of the heart. Instead of possessions and troublesome tumults, 290 which even now disturb me with evil nocturnal dreams (for the visions of the night are like the cares of the day), the splendor of God used to shine before my eyes, and the bright dance and glory of pious souls. But now all these treasures have vanished from my 295 soul, which formerly flourished with all the best things, and only longing and hopelessness have remained within. Therefore I wail. For I do not know clearly what the morrow will be: whether God will lead me back to my former ways, having loosed me from my pains and shaken off all my burdens, 300 or whether He will drive me from the midst of my present sufferings, before I see the clear sky, before I see Him apply remedies to my wounds, instead of possessions and grievous clamors, 290 which even now arouse me with nocturnal and evil dreams (for the visions of the night are similar to my daily cares), the splendor of God used to shine before my eyes, and the illustrious and beautiful chorus of pious 295 souls. But now all these treasures have fled from my soul, which formerly flourished with every best thing, and only craving remained within, and pain without hope. Therefore I groan. But I do not know clearly the morrow, whether God will restore me again to my former ways, loosening me from my cares and casting off all my burdens, 300 or whether He will rather take me from hence in the midst of my miseries, before I behold the dawn, before I apply remedies to my sores, [alt-version omitted]

^A 301 and as a miserable wretch desiring the light after the final night, at which time there is no one who can aid those who are lamenting. Here is a medicine for mortals, but the final bonds of all things are constricting. 305 Already my head is gray, and my shriveled limbs have inclined toward the painful sunset of life. But not yet have I endured such and so great sorrow; not even when I was traversing the sea, while it was being lashed by raging winds, from the land of Pharia to Achaia, 310 at the rising of the wintry Taurus, which sailors fear most, and few at that time cast off their moorings. There for twenty nights and days I lay at the stern of the ship, invoking God, the high ruler, with my prayers. The wave was foaming over the ship, 315 like mountains or crags here and there, and much was falling within. All the tackle was shaking, with the wind shrilly whistling against the stays. The ether was darkening with clouds, and was flashing with lightnings, and was being shattered on all sides by powerful cries. 320 Then I gave myself to God, and I escaped the fierce sea by falling into holy promises. Nor even when the foundations of all broad Greece were shaken as it trembled, and no aid for the evil appeared; but I was trembling, because I did not yet have a soul perfected 325 by the heavenly gift, since it is by the bath that grace and the splendor of the Spirit are drawn to men. Nor even when disease filled my mouth with a violent flow,

^A and constricted the passages of my breath and the ways of life. Nor when, with an unreasoning mind, folding a knot around me, 330 I did not willingly scratch the rounded corner of my eyelid, and made it bloody; then my light, like that of a murderer, vanished, and a huge grief followed upon my bitter error. Nor did I offer to God a sacrifice of my hands or of the Spirit, ^B certainly not until I had dissolved my woe with tears. For it is evil for one not pure to touch the holy, just as it is for 335 a weak eye to look opposite the fiery sun. I suffered many other things: who could tell of these, by which God, both crushing and favoring me, called me? But never before had I encountered such evils, 340 as those which my wretched soul has lately met; which longs someday to see the free day, stripping off everything, so that, naked, it might flee the flames, ^A and the strong grips of the world, and the gaping chasm of the dragon, 345 who yearns to open his jaws for whoever he catches. For my soul is food for Beliar. Who will grant water to my head and fountains to my eyelids, that I may wash away all defilements with conduits of tears, ^B having wept as is fitting for transgressions (for a tear is the best 350 medicine for mortals, and for darkened souls, and sooty ash, and sackcloth upon the ground)? ^C So that whoever looks upon me may tremble, and become better, fleeing Egypt's black soil, and bitter deeds, and King Pharaoh, and may travel to his divine homeland, 355 and may not remain in the rocky plains of Babylon, a captive sitting by the river's bank, having laid aside all the instruments of song untouched, weeping, but may hasten to the ends of the holy land.

^A Fleeing the servile yoke of Assyria, by which I was formerly worn, and casting with my hands the foundations of a great temple. 360 Since I, most unfortunate, left this, I have never ceased ^B to pine for it. A heavy affliction has poured over me in my old age, and I bow toward the earth, nursing grief in my breast, revering both mortals and the immortal King, downcast in my garments and in my heart, and speechless, 365 drawing forth a lament for the King in my misery, he who favors all those lying on the ground, but rejects the arrogant. Just as they say a traveler, descending from the holy city of the Solymites toward the famous citadel of Jericho, was attacked by evil robbers lying in wait, 370 who, having slashed him with shameful blows and stripped off the garments that covered him, left him in their heartless cruelty, ^A near to death; but travelers happened upon him, a Levite and a priest, who left him in their heartless cruelty. And perhaps some Samaritan came who took pity on him, 375 and taking him, bound him and left medicine for his wounds, and the fee for his care; a great marvel, how a Samaritan, having seen this man, took pity on him, whom the best of men did not pity! For I do not know clearly what is hidden in this image, such mysteries as God concealeth in his wisdom. 380 And may these things indeed be forgiven. Such were the calamities I encountered; and a robber, envying souls, similarly tore me apart as I descended from the noble city of my life, and stripped me of the grace of Christ, and left me naked, just as of old Adam, the beginning of dust and of the fall, 385 whom taste brought down to the earth, from which his race had sprung.

METRICAL VERSION

Fleeing, may he hasten to touch the sacred seats, and again cast the foundations of the destroyed temple. Since I left that land once under a heavier fate, no day has passed in which I did not seek it with ardent prayers: and this great desire has poured gray hairs upon my head and brought premature old age. I cast my face to the ground, I am worn down by heavy grief, and I fear both men and God, squalid and moist with tears, restraining my voice, so that I may render the gentle Deity of Olympus propitious to me. For the most holy Father looks with equal eyes upon the humble, but scorns the lofty and those swelling with pride. And just as when—as the sacred oracles reveal—a traveler, while too imprudent, proceeds to Jericho from the Solymites, he falls by an adverse fate among savage robbers, whom a wicked hand has laid low, pierced through his whole body with countless darts, and, having taken his garment as he lay, left him naked through dire savagery. ^B By and by, a Levite and a priest made the journey there; yet he was—O hard hearts!—abandoned by both. But as the inhabitant of the Samaritan land passed by, he immediately took pity on his bitter fall, binds his savage wounds with ease, and swiftly led him, having placed him on his horse, into an inn, poured medicine upon his ulcers, and, departing, left to the servant the care and the price for the sick man. What is so wonderful as that he swayed the Samaritan, whom he had not swayed the pupils of virtue? For indeed, I do not comprehend what that image conceals, since the great wisdom of the heaven-dwelling Divinity hides many things under an external veil. No different fate has befallen me in my misery, and that envious robber, who burns to close heaven and eternal life to us, inflicted most savage wounds upon me as I recently came from the sacred city, and cruelly took away what God had given: not otherwise than to Adam, who was the author of the clay body and the fall, who from the forbidden tree...

^A But do Thou, O King, take pity, and save me from death, ^B whom the priests abandoned when they saw me suffering. ^A Bind up my wounds well, leading me to the inn, and send me back again to the holy city, whole, 390 so that I may remain firmly there, and ward off the wicked thieves, and the grievous path, and the wounds, and the travelers, who have a cruel spirit, while boasting of their piety. I have heard how two men, a Pharisee puffing himself up greatly, as if he were to God the most preeminent of all, and a publican 395 whose heart was worn through within by unholy gains, went up into the Temple; the one recounted each of his fasts and the tithes of the Law, measured himself against the men of old, and in his words treated the publican as refuse; 400 not even looking up at the broad heaven, the throne of the great God, but looking down at the ground with servile eyes, he stood far off and besought: «Be propitious, be propitious to Thy servant, who cries aloud, laden with evils. Neither the law, nor tithes, nor good works will save me. 405 Nor is he a liar, uttering slanders. And I feel shame even to touch the Temple floor with unsanctified feet. But let Thy grace and Thy pity, O King, drip upon me, the profane—the only hope which Thou dost provide to miserable sinners, O King.» Thus they spoke; but God heard both, and took pity on 410 him whom He saw suffering, and brought low him who was overweening. As Thou didst see, so didst Thou judge, O God, granting me confidence. I am that very man, the wicked publican.

Metrical Version

While he reads, he has fallen to the earth, from whence he drew his origin. But now, O supreme Parent, show pity to the soul that prays. Snatch me from dark death, me whom the sacred order abandoned, oppressed by an excessive weight of grievous sorrows. Bind up my wounds duly, in haste, leading me to the hospitable ^B dwelling: may I return to the city by Thy favor, whole in strength, and may I remain fixed there for all time. Mayst Thou remove the wicked thieves, and the troublesome path, and the wounds, and the deceitful men, who under a sacred order and the guise of righteousness harbor cruel hearts. The sacred volumes tell that two men once ascended into the Temple: one of whom swelled with empty pride, as if no one were dearer to God than he himself, no one better or holier anywhere; this was the Pharisee: but the other bore wounded hearts within because of his unholy gains, and lay in mourning. He indeed, puffed up, calculating the sum of his merits, his tithes of the law, his frequent fasts, boasted, and started a contest of praise against the men of old, trampling with his swollen speech upon the publican. But the latter, weeping, beat his breast with his palms. Nor indeed did he look to heaven, the seat of the thunder-bearing Father, but fixed his servile eyes upon the earth, and standing far off, poured forth a voice from his breast: «Spare thy servant, O best God, spare the petitioner. Look upon me graciously, burdened by the weight of my sins. Neither law, nor tithes, nor my good deeds can protect me, nor bring sweet salvation to a wretch. Nor has this man hurled his deceitful slanders upon our head. Nay, I fear even to touch this Temple with impure feet. But Thou, most gentle Father, save me, and let Thy holy grace drip upon a profane man, which is the only hope that shines forth for the wicked, given by Thee.» God hears them saying such things, and takes pity on him whom He sees afflicted with mourning, and scorns the proud man. Looking upon these, O Father, Thou didst immediately pass such a judgment: and hence has joyful confidence been born in me.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

How I groan heavily, and hope for help from you, O Creator. I entreat you, if ever my father and my noble mother 415 offered you tears, and groanings, and prayers, or bestowed upon you a small portion of their goods, or honored you with pure and holy sacrifices (for I have never done anything worthy of you), remember these things and defend me; banish 420 my evil cares. Let not the thorns with their shoots stifle me, nor, when I am hastening on the divine way, let them pull me back; be my protection, and send me on unharmed. For I am your servant, and your portion. And you are my God, from on high. My mother, bearing me from her womb, dedicated me to you, 425 on the day when, desiring a child, she placed her son upon her knees and imitated the voice of holy Hannah. ^D “May I see a son, and may you, O Christ the King, hold him within the fold, the flourishing fruit of my travail.” She spoke; and you, O God, assented, and a divine dream followed, 430 bringing the name to my mother, and afterwards you gave the son. And she dedicated me to you as a new Samuel, if ever I was such. But now, in turn, I am reckoned among the profane sons of Eli, your illustrious servant, those who defiled pure sacrifices with a foolish mind, 435 touching the divine vessels with greedy hands; wherefore they met with a wretched end of life. But she, buoyed by better hopes, offered a part of her children to you, and with divine books she sanctified my hands, and embracing me, she spoke to me with such words: 440 “Now someone has led a beloved son, God-given, to the altar,

^A hastening it, that he might become a holy sacrifice, the offspring of Sara, who bore in old age, and the root of my lineage, which hope and the promise of God had fashioned. Abraham was the priest, and Isaac the noble victim. 445 But I, as I promised, offer you to God as a living gift. Do you, fulfill for me the mother’s longing, who bore you having prayed for you, and I pray that you be the best. I grant you this wealth, my child, excellent both here and hereafter. Those future things are far better.” 450 Such was the mother’s desire. But I yielded to her desires, still being a boy, and my soul, in its tender youth, had received the new form of piety; and the seal of Christ was kept ^B by the movements of Him who spoke openly with His servant. He bound me with dear chastity, and shackled my flesh, 455 and breathed into me a warm love of divine wisdom, and of the monastic life, a prelude to the life to come, which does not want a rib that loves the body and caresses it, and with wily words leads one to a bitter taste, but rather sends up a pure desire to God, and 460 does not divide the soul born entirely of God between a wife and Christ. He who, through the narrow and difficult path, was leading me toward the slender gate, with a better escort, a path not easily trodden by many, was leading me, a god from earth, to God—being made, yet not made, and immortal from death—465 together with the image of the great God, and a body assisting

^A Drawing me, as a magnet stone draws glowing iron. Woe is me! O soul that hath suffered grievous and requiting deeds! O empty-boasting mortals! How truly like to thin breezes are we who have been born, 470 or like to the back-straying currents of the Euripus, whirling about upon the earth, puffed up with vanities. And nothing among men remains the same unto the end, neither evil nor good. The ways are very close together. Neither doth the evil man know this unto the last, when he shall cease, 475 nor doth virtue remain fixed in the good, but it wanes; as fear chases evil, so envy ^B chases virtue. But Christ, for both, hath commanded the generation of short-lived men to be bent, that we might look upward, beholding His strength. He is best who pulls along the straight path, 480 and doth not turn back to the desolate ash of Sodom, which, through wantonness, was destroyed by a strange fire. But he flees with haste to the mountain, and forgets his fatherland, lest he become a tale and a pillar of salt for those who come after. I am a witness by my own sufferings of human wickedness. 485 For when I was a boy, when a small understanding was in my breast, following only—as much as a shadowy word and noble morals could—I was advancing upward to the shining throne, walking the kingly path with un-straying footsteps. But now, when I have gathered instruction, and approach the goal of life, 490 I walk crookedly, wretch that I am, like those wandering from wine. And the struggle with the winding serpent shakes me, stealing away, in secret and in public, the mind that thought on good things. Sometimes, indeed, I stretch my mind toward God; but at other times again...

[alt-version omitted]

^B He is best, indeed, who walks by the straight path, and does not turn his head toward the smoking roofs of Sodom, which a wicked libido has consumed with a new fire: but quickly flees to the mountain, and casts his native household gods from his mind, lest hereafter he be left as a tale of the common folk, and become an immovable stone of salt. And through me and my own hazards it is easy to discern how prone our race is to be carried toward vice. For when I, in the pleasant flower of early youth—when a light feeling stirs in a soft breast—was using only an umbratile reason, and having noble morals as my guides, was seeking the sublime dwellings, planting certain footsteps on the royal path; now that my reason is gathered, and I myself have reached the goal of old age, I wander, miserable, like a drunkard, and the cruel fight of the twisted serpent weighs me down, and it snatches my rightly-contemplated plans, stealthily and openly. Sometimes my mind is carried to the King of Olympus;

^A I am drawn into the foul pouring forth of the world, and the boundless world has wounded no small part of my soul. But I, even if black wickedness has covered me, and the enemy previously poured forth bitter venom against me—like a cuttlefish vomiting into the water—yet I still see and perceive as much as I may best know who I am, and of what I am desirous of leaping up, 500 where I lie, miserable, as much as I have slid upon the earth or even into the wide chasms beneath the earth. I am not warmed by consolations, nor am I deceived by words which are helpers to sufferings, nor am I delighted by the measures of another’s wickedness, as if I were someone of the best. For what grace is there for those being cut, when they labor under the iron, 505 to see a more grievous pain of others being cut? Or what profit from the shameful deeds of those worse than oneself? 510 ^A For one might take advantage of a better man, being good oneself, as also a wicked man might of a wicked one. For one who sees is a benefit to the blind. But to take delight in evil things is of a more perfect malice. And if someone, while I am most base, thinks me to be the best, this is a burden to me, and a hidden lamentation within my breast. 515 It is better, when one is the best, to appear evil, than to be the most base, having the glory of a good man, being a lying sepulcher to men, which reeks inside with putrid corpses, but on the outside shines with lime and pleasant colors. Let us greatly fear the eye that looks even beneath the earth, and at the great abyss of the sea, and whatever the 520 mind of mortals hides. Time cuts nothing, but all things are present to God. How might anyone cloak his own evil?

[alt-version omitted]

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

On that final day, where shall we hide ourselves? Or who will defend us? How shall we escape the eye of God, when fire, as a purifier, judges the works of all, 525 consuming the light and parched nature of wickedness? This day I dread, and I fear it night and day, watching my soul fall from God to the earth, and drawing near to the dust, which I was eager to flee. For just as when, by the banks of a wintry river, 530 the stream, bursting forth with violence, harms a pine or a plane tree flourishing with its thick foliage: ^A first it shakes off all its upper growth and leaves it hanging, poised over the precipice; then, as it is held by only thin roots, it tears it away entirely 535 from the cliff and casts it into the midst of the whirlpools, 1010 ^A and driving it along with a great crash, delivers it to the stones. And there, rain and the perpetual, pounding torrent have rotted it, and a most dishonored piece of wood lies by the banks. ^B Just so, my soul, flourishing for Christ the King, the fierce and unyielding enemy attacked with violence and cast down to the ground, of which the greater part has perished, but some small remains wander thus ^C hither and thither. But it is for God to raise it up again, who, when we were nothing, fashioned us, and later, though we be dissolved, will fashion us again and draw us to another life, 545 either to fire, or to encounter God the light-bearer. But if it be of God, shall all [enter] thereafter? Let that lie elsewhere.

Christ, my King, even if men [call] me dead and strengthless…

…

Enemies call me, and secretly they mock me, Laughing at my distress with wagging heads. ^A 550 Do not let me be overcome by hostile hands; But first support my spirit with heavenly hopes, And to me who am extinguished, pour out little A drop of oil, a help for the thirsting lamp, So that with the fire ignited, the light may return, ^B 555 Blossoming again, and I may attain to radiant life. Secondly, give all these burdens to the gusts of wind, Casting them from me (and grant me a light breath), With which you have sated and crushed my heart; whether, Avenging yourself for my bitter wickedness, or through pains, like a colt 560 Taming me with manifold and steep courses; Or holding back some pride of my mind, which quickly Greets the pious, as many as are light of understanding, Who snatch up evil from the good God, as if it were pride; Or whether, O Savior Word, being willing to instruct 565 Mortal men, that they may hate the baseness of life, How it does not stand, but brings evils upon all, Upon the good and the bad alike, and urges life toward another, Steady, unshaken, and better for the pious. But these things lie in the great depths of wisdom, 570 As many as bring lessons of the shifting life to mortals, Both good and bad; but by the Word all things are best, Even if most escape the thickness of our mind. ^C

[alt-version omitted]

METRICA VERSION

He calls me weak and spiritless, and with a hidden Nod of the head he follows our troubles with mocking scorn: Do not permit me to fall conquered by a hostile hand, But first support my breast with heavenly hope. And, lest my light fail, provide nourishment, And pour in some liquid of humid oil, Which may offer help to the thirsting lamp, so that the light May return to me right now with fire ignited, And I may enjoy the brilliant light of eternal life. Then truly shake off sad troubles from us, And commit them to the wide seas to be carried away by the winds: And grant me light breezes. For you yourself have already sufficiently Subdued the swelling tumor of my breast, Whether punishing my crimes with deserving penalties, Or taming me as an untamed horse with various and harsh Courses, and breaking me with a vast trial of sorrows; Or repressing pride, which easily invades Men who are friends of piety, who lack weight of mind, For whom the divine goodness is an occasion for evil pride: Or wishing to reveal through so many evils our lessons, So that all, having come to hate life and the adversities of life, And the wayward chances and misfortunes coming to the just And unjust alike, with swift course, We may hasten to the eternal and better age for the pious. But these things are hidden in the bottom of divine wisdom, Which carry lessons of fleeting life to mortals, As much of good as of bad. Yet all things are best by the Word, However many things may escape the thickness Of our mind. For you, the most knowing, [hold] the rudder of the world. ^D

^A by which we are driven from evil reefs, and pass over 575 the great, most faithless sea of life. Yet I, laboring and worn down by all manner of griefs, bend my knees to you. Send to me, I pray, Lazarus, with a moistened finger, that he may quickly cool my tongue with a flame, and may the chaos no longer hold me back, 580 nor may it cast me far from the great bosom of Abraham, [who am] rich in sufferings. Send your mighty hand, and provide a remedy for my afflictions, and show in me all the miracles and the power of signs, as in times past. Say the word, and may the bloody flow cease most quickly. 585 Say the word, and may the spirit of the legion drive the herd of swine into madness, and may it fall into the seas, and depart from me. And may you drive away the joyless leprosy; and may light come ^B to those who do not see with their eyes, and may my ears hear the sound. And may you stretch forth my dry hand, and break the bonds of my tongue, 590 and make firm the faltering step of my feet. And may you satisfy [me] with a little bread; and may you calm the fearful sea; and may you shine brighter than the sun. And may you strengthen my limbs, grown heavy, and from the dead may you raise me up again, [even me who am] putrid; and may you not, seeing me as the fig tree of old, 595 render me barren and dry. Another man trusts in other helpers, O Christ, in blood, and in ash, and in the vanity of the present day. And [others] have need of some other vain helper. But I am abandoned to you alone, O King of all, 600 who rule over all, and who are my greatest strength. My wife, though she tends to me, shall not solve these hard-to-heal cares, nor will she soothe her husband when he is distressed with sweet words.

METRICAL VERSION

Nor am I gladdened by sons, by whom old age is supported, and which walks again with youthful steps; 605 Nor am I delighted by brothers, nor by companions. For a hateful fate has snatched away those; but these—the loving ones—tremble at the small shivering of their friends, ^A a delight which they once possessed, as when a thirsty stag, nearing a cold spring, [finds comfort]. Best of men, Christ-bearers, living on earth above the flesh, friends of the eternal Spirit, and noble worshippers, unmarried, over-wise in the ways of the world. But even they, ^B contending about you, stand apart here and there, and zeal for God has lawlessly broken the rule, 615 and the harmony of love, whose name alone is left. Just as if one, having left a lion, should approach a furious bear, and, fleeing from it, should fall willingly into a house, and lean his hand against the wall, ^C and then a snake, darting from it, should strike him unexpectedly; 620 So it is for me, driven by many troubles; there is no remedy for my labor, and whatever I find, it is more painful still. But having looked everywhere, and having toiled in all things, I look back from you, into you, O Blessed One, my support— ^D Almighty, unbegotten, and Beginning, and Father of the Beginning, 625 of the immortal Son, great light of a light alike, proceeding from one into one by ineffable words; Son of God, Wisdom, King, Word, and Truth, Image of the archetype, nature equal to the Begetter, Shepherd, Lamb, and Sacrifice, God, man, and high priest.

630 And the Spirit who proceeds from the Father, the light of our mind, Coming upon the pure, and making man God: Have mercy, and grant me, in the revolving years, Both here and hereafter, that, being mingled with the whole Deity, I may joyfully praise Thee with continuous hymns.

II. The Oaths of Gregory

I swore by the Word himself, who is my greatest God, The Beginning from the Beginning, from the immortal Father, The Image of the archetype, a nature equal to the Begetter, Who came down from heaven to the life of mortals; 5 I swore, neither with the mind to cast away the great mind, having conceived hostile things, ^A Nor with a word to cast away the Word of another. If I should divide the divinity of the bright Trinity, Following the inclinations of opposing times; If at any time a great position should goad my mind, 10 May I not, through desire, apply my hand to another’s; If before God I should place a human helper, Having fastened the cables of a weak rock; If ever, when God brings good things, I should have a haughty spirit, Or, meeting with evils, should on the contrary be weak; 15 If—having turned aside from what is just—I should judge a lawsuit, Or if an eyebrow should take honor above the holy; If, seeing the wicked prospering in their way, I should stand apart, or [forsake] the peaks of the good.

METRICAL VERSION

Spirit proceeding from the highest Father, driving darkness From our minds, and entering pure hearts, And bestowing upon man the honor of divinity, Be favorable to me, a wretch, and in the revolving years, Grant, I pray, that in the remaining time of mortal life, And also later, all radiant with the Deity, I may joyfully celebrate Thee with perpetual songs of praise.

(Interpreted by Billius)

I have sworn by the Word, who is God to me, risen from the Beginning, And begotten by the immortal Begetter; The image of the archetype, equal in nature to the Father, Who came to our race from the celestial axis: ^B That neither should my mind cast away the supreme Mind, Nor should I divide the Word; nor, if it should enter my mind To divide the deity of the bright Trinity, While I follow the impulse of an opposing time: If a high seat should goad my mind, or if I should help those Whom a harsh desire for a seat drives: If I should perhaps place human aid before that of God, May my raft be fastened to a weak rock; If, when God provides prosperity, my mind should be puffed up with pride, Or if it should sink again in adverse circumstances: If, as a judge, I should pervert equity and right, giving More to the proud than to men heavy with piety. Seeing the prosperity of the wicked, and the cliffs of the good, If I should leave the right path, as one not well in health.

If envy should wither my mind; if I should laugh 20 At the fall of those, even if they be not holy, as if I had a firm footing; If my mind should fall because of swelling wrath, if without a bridle My tongue should race, and my heart direct wanton eyes; If I should hate anyone in vain, if I should punish my enemy Deceitfully, or even openly; 25 If I should send away the hand of a poor man empty from my house, If I should send away empty a mind thirsty for the heavenly word; May Christ be more gracious to another, but as for mine, May the wind carry away the labors I have endured until my gray hairs. By these laws I have bound my life. But if I should come 30 To the fulfillment of my desire, O Immortal One, thine be the grace.

III. Itinerarium Constantinopolitanum

^A In thee we rest, O Word of God, Remaining at home; to thee we offer our leisure. Thine is our sitting, thine our rising, and our standing, Thine again is our journeying, and even now by thy beckoning 5 We walk upright. But send me some one of the angels As a guide of my way, a favoring companion, Who may lead me in a pillar of fire and cloud, Divide the sea, and hold back the rivers by thy word, And feed me abundantly from above and from below. 10 And may the Cross, traced by my hands, compel the boldness Of the enemy to cease; and may it not, in the middle of the day

Metrical Version

If envy eat me, if I should delight in the fall of the wicked, While my own life, by contrast, stands on a firm footing: If cruel fury should strike down my mind, and my tongue Should run without a bridle, and my eye be wanton: If anyone should be an object of hatred to me in vain, ^B And I should punish my enemy openly or by hidden frauds: If the needy should depart from my hands empty, He who hungering seeks the heavenly waters: May Christ be kind and favorable to others; but may a light breeze Carry away my own labors, devoid of fruit. By these laws I have bound my soul. If I shall have completed my vows, Pious Christ, this shall be of thy gift.

III. Itinerarium Constantinopolitanum

In thee we rest, O Word of God the Father, Remaining at home; to thee we give our leisure. To thee we sit, to thee again we rise, To thee we stand and are moved: under thy auspices Now we tread our way. But send an angel to be the guide And guardian of my course, Who may cover me with a pillar of cloud and fire, Divide the sea, stop the rivers with his voice, And feed me with food both heavenly and earthly. May the Cross, signed by hand, break the boldness Of the enemy: nor in the middle of the day

may the burning heat scorch me, nor may the night bring fear. But make the rough and steep path smooth and accessible to your servant, 15 as you have often shielded me before with your hand, and rescued me from the dangers of land and sea, and from terrible diseases and hostile affairs. So that, having prospered in all things according to our hopes, and having found a favorable end to the journey, 20 we may once again return to our friends and relatives, appearing to them as they to us with joy, and resting from our labors. We worship you, needing to meet with a favorable and easy final journey.

^A Δ'. To Himself. Let the Trinity be preached, and let some other, who is worthy, take up the duty of teaching. As for the thrones, I shall yield. For I will not cease to speak with God.

Ε'. To the people of Anastasia. I long for you, I long for you, my dearest, I will not deny it: I long for the offspring of my words, O people of Anastasia, dear to me, who has raised the ancient faith, long dead through dead words, with new ones; 5 from whence my word, going forth like a spark, filled all the Churches with light.

IV. De Seipso. Let the Trinity be preached, and let some other, who is worthy, take up the duty of teaching. As for the thrones, I yield. For I will not cease to speak with God.

V. Ad plebem Anastasiæ. I long for you, I long for you, dearest, I will not deny it: I long for you, fruit and offspring of my sermons, O people of my beloved Anastasia, which has revived the ancient faith, long since dead through deadly sermons, with new ones: from whence my word, going forth like a spark, filled all the Churches with light.

[alt-version omitted]

METRICA VERSIO. IV. DE SEIPSO. (A. B. Caillau transl.) Let the Trinity be sung, and let another, who is worthy, direct the words. I willingly yield the thrones, and shall not cease to converse with God.

V. AD PLEBEM ANASTASIÆ. (A. B. Caillau transl.) I want you, I want you, I do not deny it, dearest, I want you, the sprout and offspring of my speech, O pleasant people of most sweet Anastasia, who long since revived the ancient faith, dead through malign words, with new ones: from whence my word, emerging like a spark, filled all the Churches with light.

^A I groan long. And perhaps others dance over my children, having carried them off with persuasive words. 10 For if strength should come to me, O Trinity, as formerly yours, and I should roar again in you, perhaps the wild beasts would yield once more.

VI. To the same.

VII. A farewell to those who are no friends.

VIII. Against the Envious

IX. Against the Same

[alt-version omitted]

I. To the priests of Constantinople, and to the city itself.

^A O you who offer bloodless sacrifices, you priests, and who worship the great Unity in Trinity; you laws, and you emperors blooming in piety, O glorious seat of great Constantine, New Rome, excelling other cities as much as the starry heaven excels the earth: 5 shall I call upon you, those of noble birth, for what Envy has done to me? How it drove me far from my holy children, after I had labored long, a light-bearer with heavenly dogmas, and having poured forth a flowing stream from the rock. What justice is this, that I should have trouble and fear, 10 having been the first to sketch out the piety of the city ^B—another having been suddenly lifted onto a seat not his own, upon which God and the good servants of God had placed me? This is a loathsome disease, this is a heavy burden from God, that those who hold grievous strife against one another—O Christ my King!—do not find me pleasing in these things. For I did not become a bold shield-bearer of one party, 20 nor did I wish to place anything before Christ. My error is that I did not err in the same way as others, nor do I let myself be yoked like a small boat to a cargo ship. And so I am hated by those of light mind, who ^C unholily entrusted this seat to friends of the times. But let the abyss of oblivion cover these things. As for me, 25 setting out from here, I shall rejoice in tranquility.

X. To the Constantinopolitan priests, and the city itself.

O you who offer bloodless sacrifices, sace- ^C dotes, and who worship the great Unity in Trinity; O laws, O emperors flourishing in piety! O glorious seat of great Constantine! New Rome, excelling cities as much as the starry heaven excels the ^D earth: will I invoke you, nobles; what has Envy schemed against me? How did it expel me far from the holy children, after I had struggled for a long time and brought light with heavenly doctrine, and brought forth streams from the rock? What equity is it that I should bear labors and terrors for the city which I began to form in piety, ^A while another should soothe his soul with my labors, suddenly snatched into a strange seat, into which I had been elevated by God and the good servants of God? This is a most troublesome disease to me; these are God's servants who, quarreling in tearful dissension among themselves, O Christ the King, have not consulted me in a friendly manner. ^B For I have not stood as a bold combatant of one side, nor have I wished to hold anything more than Christ. My offense is that I have not offended just as some others have, nor do I attach myself, like a small boat, to a merchant ship. Thus I am also hated by light-minded souls who nefariously betrayed this seat to the friends of the time. But let the abyss of oblivion cover these things. I, however, 25 departing from here, will enjoy a tranquil life.

[alt-version omitted]

SECTION I. POEMS ON HIMSELF

Leaving behind altogether, voluntarily, as I once desired, the palace, the cities, and the priests, when God called me both by nocturnal dreams and by the grievous terrors of the dread sea—for that reason, exulting with joy, I fled from envy, and from a great storm I let down my anchor in a stable harbor, where, lifting my soul with pure thoughts of the mind, I will offer silence, just as before I offered speech, like a sacrifice. 35 These are the words of Gregory, whom the land of the Cappadocians nurtured, and who for Christ renounced all things.

XI. On His Own Life

The aim of this writing is to weave the course of my adversities, or, if you would have it so, of my prosperities; for some might say the former, others the latter, as each person’s mind, I suppose, is inclined. 5 For personal inclination is not a safe criterion of judgment. But verse, while playing, serves as a medicine for grief; it is at once an education and a sweetness for the young, a pleasant consolation. But I address myself to you—you who were once mine, but now belong to another, 10 as many as hold the same faith, or if anyone is a spurious believer. For all are kindly disposed toward me, now that I am silent. O men, the renowned light of the world, who inhabit a second world, as I see, clothed in the ornaments of earth and sea, ^A seeking to narrate the way, whether of the right or—to speak as some might in one way and some in another—as ^B each, I believe, is inclined. For will is not a sure standard of judgment. ^C But verse, while playing, is a remedy for grief, an instruction and at the same time a delight for the young, a pleasant consolation. But my word is addressed to you, who were once mine, but are now those of another, as many as share the same creed, or if there be any who is illegitimate. For all are well-disposed to us who are silent. O men, the glorious eye of the world, who inhabit the second world, as I perceive, being clothed in the glory of earth and sea, ^D[alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

Leaving behind all things at once, the initiates, the halls, and the cities, with a ready mind—which I remember I had not desired before—at the time when God called me by nocturnal visions, and through the horrid perils of the dark blue sea. Joyfully I fled from envy, and now, snatched from heavy tempests, faithful shores hold me. Here, where I lift up my soul, just as I formerly sang of God with my voice, so too shall I sing in my silent mind. This is the discourse of Gregory, who, led by the love of Christ, has cast off, without regret, whatever wealth he possessed.

XI. ON HIS OWN LIFE

(Interpreted by Billius)

It pleases me to describe my own sad affairs; for some will call them happy, others grievous, as the opinion of each may bend; for the will itself is not a sufficient judge. Now, verse puts to flight the cloud of a dark mind and renders the young happy, and at the same time teaches and soothes the breast sweetly. I address you who are no longer mine now, yet were once my own: as much those who are orthodox, as those whose faith is spurious. For now everyone is peaceful toward me, who am as one dead. O men, splendid light of the whole world, whom we see as inhabitants of a second world, you who have put on the ornament of earth and of the sea,

^A New Rome, seat of other nobles, city of Constantine, and column of the empire: hear, O men, a man most averse to falsehood, one who has suffered many things in many vicissitudes, from which much may be learned. 20 Everything has collapsed; even honorable things have succumbed to time, and nothing or little remains, just as when earth is swept away by the force of violent rains, and nothing is left but pebbles. 25 There is nothing great yet, if I speak of the many who were not previously ranked among the good, having become like cattle, prone and looking downward. We are that violent and rough torrent; our order is dissolved, I speak with weeping, we who sit not well upon the lofty throne, ^A 30 leaders of the people, teachers of the good, who have been assigned to nourish souls with divine food, while we ourselves suffer from hunger; physicians of illnesses, yet dead ourselves and teeming with countless diseases; guides of the steep, rugged paths, 35 which they have never led through nor even trodden themselves; whom to follow is not a brief precept, but the very widest doctrine of salvation; whose throne is an accuser of their morals, and whose chancel rails divide not their lives, but their haughty brows. 40 From whence I was led to commit these things to writing (for it does not please me to pile up many words in vain), let all hear, both those who now are, and those who shall be hereafter. But it is necessary to repeat my own story from a little higher up, even if it might be lengthy. ^B

METRICAL VERSION

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

45 That lying words may not prevail against me. For the wicked are accustomed, regarding the things they do wickedly, To shift the causes onto those who suffer, So that they may do harm even more by their falsehoods, And absolve themselves of their crimes. 50 Let this be the prelude to the discourse. I had a father, noble and very good, ^A An old man, simple in his ways, a standard of life, A patriarch in truth, a second Abraham, Being good, not merely seeming so, not in the modern fashion; 55 Formerly a creature of error, afterwards a friend of Christ, Then a shepherd, a pillar of shepherds. And my mother—to speak briefly—the equal yoke-fellow Of such a man, and an unwavering talent, Formerly from pious parents, yet more pious herself, 60 Female in body, but in character beyond men. Both were on the lips of all, equally for their integrity of life. What is the proof of this? How shall I verify my discourse? I will bring forward as witness of the things I have spoken The woman who bore me, the very mouth of truth, 65 Accustomed rather to hide something of what was manifest, Than to boast of hidden things for the sake of glory; For fear led her, which is the great teacher. She, desiring to see the birth of a male child In her home, a matter precious to many, 70 Held converse with God, and asked to obtain her desire. And since she was scarcely able to restrain the impulse of her mind, The gift she asked to receive, she gives back to God, Anticipating the gift itself with her readiness of heart; And thus she did not fail in her dear prayer,

^B Anna, wife of Elkanah, being of a bitter spirit, prayed to the Lord weeping profusely, and vowed a vow, saying: "O Lord of hosts, if looking upon me thou shalt see the affliction of thy handmaid, and shalt be mindful of me, and shalt not forget thy handmaid, and shalt give unto thy handmaid the male sex, I will give him unto the Lord all the days of his life," etc. And having obtained her vow, she bore Samuel.

METRICAL VERSION

Sermo, innocentem falsa ne verba obruant. Est quippe mos hic improbis, ut conferant Causam suorum criminum in læsos, eis Per ficta noceant ut magis mendacia, In seque jacta diluant sic crimina. Sermonis autem sit mei hoc primordium. Erat pater mi vir probus valde, senex, Simplexque, vitæ regula et certissima, Patriarchus alter Abraham: non tam studens Fama esse, quam re vir bonus, contra atque nunc. Primum erro, Christi cultor at post fervidus, Exinde pastor, ordinis decus et sui. Itemque mater, ut brevi dicam, tori Consorte tali digna, nec minor viro: Prognata sanctis, sanctior parentibus, ^B Sexu mulier, at moribus supra viros. Uterque pariter omnium in linguis situs. Hoc unde monstrem si quis ex me postulet, Ipsam citabo protinus dicti mei Testem parentem, nemo qua veracior : Ut quæ sileret clara potius omnibus, Quam quid referret abditi, laudem aucupans. Magnus magister namque erat dux huic timor. Cupiebat illa masculum fetum domi Spectare, magna ut pars cupit mortalium. Deum ergo supplex orat ut vota expleat. Atque ut negabat impetus freno regi, Quem postulabat, hunc statim donat Deo, Alacritate mentis id donum occupans. Nec vero id ejus irritum votum fuit,

^A but there came to her a favorable prelude, a vision bearing the shadow of the things requested. For my form appeared openly, and my name; and the grace of the night was the fulfillment of the work. For I became for them—if I was worthy of a prayer—the gift of the God who gave me; but if I was unworthy, it was to be attributed to my sin. Thus, then, I passed into this life, mixed with clay—alas, poor wretch!—and with a compound [nature], by which we are ruled, or which we rule with difficulty. 85 Yet, having received the very birth itself as a pledge of every good thing—for it is not right to be ungrateful—as soon as I came [to light], I immediately became "alien," a noble alienation. For to God ^A I stand like some lamb, or a dear calf, 90 a sacrifice noble and honored by reason. For I hesitate to call myself as some young Samuel, unless I look toward the longing of those who gave me [to God]. Nourished in all good things from the cradle (for I had the best examples at home), 95 I already took on a certain gravity of old age, and there was gathering within me, little by little, like a cloud from a cloud, the zeal for what is better. I advanced forward, with reason also keeping pace, and I took pleasure in the books that are advocates for God, 100 and I associated with men of the most excellent way of life. Such, then, were these things; but as for the rest, I do not know which path of discourse I should take.

[alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

But there came to her a convenient prelude, a vision bringing the shadow of the thing requested. For our face openly presents itself to her, and the name, and what she had seen, this was the reality. For I am born to them; if indeed I am worthy of the vows of my parent, this gift is of the Most High God: but if otherwise, by Heaven, the fault is entirely my own. Thus I came into this life unhappy, fashioned from clay, and joined to a heavy body, by which I am either conquered, or I emerge as victor only with difficulty. Yet since I have received the pledge of every good—that I have obtained this birth—it is fitting that I acknowledge the favor. ^B Yet, scarcely born, I immediately become of another's jurisdiction, and that beautifully. For I am offered to God, as a calf, or a lamb, both a victim and most noble, endowed with reason. For I would not dare to say [I am] like Samuel, unless I consider the vows and the pious zeal of those who gave me to the Divine. Thus, educated well from the cradle (for I had truly excellent examples at home), I already bore some gravity of the aged, and zeal for the right was growing little by little in my heart, just as clouds are wont to do from clouds. Growing, furthermore, in age, and at the same time in reason, I read the books that favor the cause of God, willingly, and I was often with men of upright life. And let these things be said thus far: now, what path of discourse I am to follow, my mind is in doubt.

^A Shall I conceal the wonders by which God urged me on, Having taken readiness as my excellent beginning— 105 (For so He knows how to draw one toward salvation)— Or shall I willingly speak them forth into the midst? For the one course is ungrateful, and the other is not free of pride. Better to be silent. It will suffice that I myself know them, Lest the present life seem to war against my words, 110 Being so far distant from that former readiness. But what is necessary, I shall make known to the majority. My cheeks without down, and a warm love of letters Possessed me. For I sought to provide the false Letters as auxiliaries to the true, 115 So that those who had learned nothing at all— Save for vain and empty eloquence, Which resides in noise and throats, ^B And which neither entangles me in the snares of sophistries— Might not puff themselves up. ^C That thought never entered my mind: 120 To prefer anything to my own studies. But that which the fervor of youth always suffers, Which is easily tossed about by disorderly impulses, Like a foal dashing into a race, full of spirit, This I suffered. For, being entirely out of 125 Season, with the sea not yet calmed, When those skilled in such things say the "Tail of the Bull" Is not without danger—a voyage of recklessness, not of wisdom— Then, therefore, having left Alexandria (For from there, too, I had plucked some portion of learning), 130 I set sail and was cutting across the Pontus straight for Greece, Coasting by the side of Cyprus; and a turmoil of winds Made the ship seethe, and all things were one night [of darkness].

^A Земля, the sea, the air, and the heavens were shadowed with darkness; ^B Thunder reverberated with flashes of lightning. 135 The rigging of the swelling sails groaned. The mast bowed, and the steering-oars had no strength; For they were violently snatched from the hands. The ship was filled with water rising over the sides. A confused cry, full of lamentations, was heard 140 From the sailors, the boatswains, the masters, and the passengers, All calling upon Christ with one accord, And even those who formerly did not know God; For fear is a most timely instructor. But that which was the most grievous of all evils 145 Was the ship being without water: for immediately, as it began to turn violently, The ship, broken open, was scattered into the deep sea, That ship which carried our sweet treasure of water. There was a struggle against hunger, and turmoil, and winds, To become corpses. For this, God 150 Sent a swift deliverance. For some Phoenician merchants, Appearing suddenly, even though they were in fear, When they learned through our prayers of the magnitude of our danger, By the bracing of poles and the heaving of hands, ^C Binding the ship tighter (for they were men of great strength), 155 They saved us, already corpses of the deep, Like fish failing out of the sea, Or a lamp flickering out for lack of oil. But the sea grew savage and roared all the more. ^D [alt-version omitted]

^A The deep [raged] against us for many days, 150 nor did we know, as we were tossed by many turnings, where we were sailing, nor did anyone see salvation from God. But all, fearing the common death, which was hidden, I feared [even] more. For from the cleansing waters, by which we are deified, 165 I was kept apart by the guest-slaying waters. This was my lamentation, this my calamity; to this I sent up cries, stretching out my hands, which [sounded] louder than the deep gulf of the waves, tearing my robe, lying prone, miserable. 170 And—a thing not credible, yet most true—all, letting go of their own calamity, 684-685 joined their suppliant cries with mine, the pious sailors in common evils; so much did they suffer with my distresses.

^B You were also then, O Christ, my great savior, and now you free me from the waves of this life. For since there was nothing of good hope, no island, no mainland, no mountain peaks, no beacon, no stars to guide the sailors, 180 nothing small or great among the things that are seen, what [was I to] devise? What path out of the difficulties? Despairing of all things below, I looked to you, my life, my breath, my light, my power, my salvation, terrifying, striking, smiling, healing, 185 always intertwining the good with the contrary. I reminded you of all your ancient wonders, by which we acknowledge your mighty hand: the sea parted, Israel walking through, enemies defeated by the lifting of hands, 190 [and the] Egyptians broken by scourges.

With these same commanders, having reduced the creation to servitude, and walls destroyed by trumpets and by running. Adding my own words to those famous events of old: ^A “Yours,” I said, “I am both formerly and now still; 195 you shall receive me twice, a possession most precious to you, a gift of earth and sea, purified by my mother’s prayer and by extraordinary fears. For you I shall live, if I escape this twofold danger; you will lose a servant if you cast me off. 200 Even now your disciple is agitated in the turbulence. Rouse me from sleep, or walk [with me], and let fear cease.” This I said; and the fury of the winds ceased, the sea fell calm, and the ship sailed straight. ^B And this also became a profit of my 205 prayer; for the entire company of the ship, having become piously affected toward the great Christ, went away, having received a double salvation from God. Passing by Rhodes, a little later we arrived at the harbor of Aegina (for the 210 ship was Aeginetan), sailing with favorable winds. Thence, Athens, and letters. But as to what we did there, let others speak: how we lived in the fear of God, being the first among those who knew the first things; how, in the bloom of youth and the surge of boldness, 215 when others together with various cohorts were acting in a frenzy, we lived a quiet life there ^C (like some fountain, I think, in the sea, sweet amidst the bitter waters, as is commonly believed), neither drawn by those who carry others toward ruin, 220 but ourselves drawing our friends toward the best things. For God had conferred this blessing upon me also; he brought and joined me to a most wise man,

SECTION I: POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

the man who surpassed all others in both life and eloquence. Who is this? You will surely recognize him with the greatest ease. 225 It was Basil, the great benefit of our current life. Him I had as a companion in eloquence, in shelter, and in my considerations—if, indeed, it is permitted to boast—we were a pair not unknown in Greece. All things were indeed common, and we were one soul, 230 lacking only the separation of two bodies. But what led us together specifically into one, this was God, and the desire for higher things. For from the moment we reached such a degree of confidence as to speak out even the depths of our hearts, 235 we were bound together more tightly by longing. For like-mindedness is a sure path to union.

^A What then remained? Our homeland and the patterns of our lives. For a long time had been worn away in study; 240 I had already reached almost my thirtieth year. There I recognized what kind of longing they had for us, and what opinion my fellow students held of us. The time was present, and the great labor was present. There was need of embraces and of the mournful words 245 of those departing, and of reminders to be carried away in memory. To the one [Basil], though with force and with difficulty, they yielded, even though he offered many reasons for his departure. But for me, even now, the tear runs down 250 as I remember the commotion of that time. All surrounded me with great haste: strangers, acquaintances, peers, teachers.

METRICAL VERSION

The man who surpassed all in life and letters. Who is this? It shall be known to you shortly. Basilius, the greatest good of our age. He was my companion in letters, in shelter, and— If I may boast a little, if this be permitted— We were a certain pair, illustrious among the Greeks. Nothing was proper to one, but all things common: One mind bound a double body for us. Nothing joined us as equally as the worship of God, And a fervent desire for higher things. For after we reached this point of confidence, That one might reveal to another the depths of the heart, From this we were bound by a firmer tie. For a like will binds minds more tightly. ^B

What now remained? Homeland, and a way of life. For a vast time had already flowed by in letters; And I had then passed almost thirty years. Here, I discovered with certain faith what love Our fellow students had for us, and what opinion they held. The day was now present, and a great labor also: There was need for embraces, and at the exit for sad Words, by which love catches fire. To the companion they indeed yielded, though unwillingly, As he brought forward many things that compelled him to depart. But to me, even now, tears flow from my eyes Whenever I am mindful of that commotion, For the entire cohort of my peers was surrounding me, Teachers, those known to me, and those unknown,

^A With oaths and lamentations, and even mixing in some force— For love persuaded them to dare even this— They held me fast, and said that they would never Let me be sent from thence; for it was not fitting 255 That honored Athens should fall away from us, As if they were to grant me the authority of their vote in discourse. Until at last they softened—for it was a feat To stand against so many lamentations and words, Only an oak could have done so— Yet not completely; for my fatherland pulled me back, 260 Pre-eminent in faith, one might say, among all beneath the sun, In which it seemed a noble thing to engage in philosophy, And my parents, weary with age and time. Still, then, having remained at Athens a little while, I stole my departure away in secret. 265 I came; I gave a specimen of my eloquence, satisfying the "malady" of some Who demanded this of me as if it were a debt. For I cared nothing for applause and noisy acclaim, Nor for the soft and convoluted declamations In which sophists delight in the companies of youth. 270 But this I first set before myself as a philosophy: To cast away for God the rest, and also the labors of eloquence, Just as those who abandon their sheep-grazing properties, Or who have gathered gold into the depths of the salt sea. But, as I said, I danced for my friends. 275 These were, as it were, preludes to my struggles, Or an initiation preceding greater mysteries. ^B It was now time for manly counsels. I sit within, calling my friends to deliberation,

^A Sincere monitors of my own thoughts. 280 A vehement storm held my mind in its grip, As I sought the better part among the things that are better. Long ago it had been resolved to cast the things of the flesh Into the abyss, and then that pleased me all the more. But as I contemplated the ways that lead to God, 285 It was not easy to find which one was the better and more level. For one thing seemed good or evil in the eyes of one, Another in the eyes of others, as often happens in matters of action. My own case, to compare it to a likeness, was such as this: I was pondering a long, vast journey— 290 I had fled the voyage and the labors of the sea, And was tracking down whichever path might be the more practicable. I had in my thoughts Elias the Tishbite, And great Carmel, or his strange sustenance, And the wilderness, the possession of the Forerunner, 295 And the unencumbered life of the sons of Jonadab. But again a desire for the holy Books laid hold of me, And the light of the Spirit in the contemplation of the Word— A business not at all suited to the desert or to tranquility. Until, having been moved again and again towards both sides, 300 I finally settle the matter for my desires in this way, And I brought the wandering of my mind to a moderate stop. For I saw that those whom the active life delights, While useful to others, to those who live in the world, Are useless to themselves, and tossed about by troubles, 305 By which their gentle character is cast into waves. Those, however, who are outside are somewhat more stable, And look toward God with a quiet mind, But are useful to themselves alone, with narrow charity.

^A And to live a life apart and harsh, 310 I came to a middle way between the unmarried and the mixed, Bringing the contemplation of the one and the goodness of the other. And there was present something greater, namely, grace toward those venerable ones, I speak of those who gave me birth, to whom I was a debtor. Their old age (for it is most pious 315 To render to parents the first honor after God, From whom it also comes that we know God) I cherished, and strengthened with all my might; I led them by the hand, so that I might prepare for myself A prosperous old age, while having pity on their old age. 320 For we reap such things as we sow. This was a part of my philosophical instruction, Not to seem to labor through the primary life, But to be, rather than to seem, a friend to God;

^B I thought it necessary to love also those who are practical, 325 As many as have obtained some honor from God, Leading the people with divine rites. But a greater love for the monastic life held me, Even though I seemed to be joined with many; For the monastic life is a matter of habits, not of bodies. 330 The throne was indeed venerable to me, but as one standing Afar off, as the light of the sun to weak eyes. I would have hoped for anything More than to accept this, in the many turnings of life. Speak nothing great too quickly, being but human. 335 Envy always cuts down those things which are raised high. Take no examples from elsewhere, but look to my case. For him who thinks thus, a terrible storm descends. For my father, although very accurately...

known to my mind, I know not whence, ^A 340 perhaps moved by fatherly love (and love combined with power is a terrible thing), to bind me with the chains of the Spirit, and to decorate me with what he had that was best, constrained me violently to take the second seat. 345 Thus, then, was I pained by this tyranny (for I cannot call it otherwise, and may the divine Spirit forgive me for being so affected), that suddenly, having been released from all—friends, parents, fatherland, and kin—350 like cattle stung by a gadfly, I came to Pontus, intending to find for myself a remedy for my distress in a friend full of God. For there he practiced the communal life with God, covered by a cloud, like some wise man of old; 355 this was Basil, who is now with the angels. By him, the grief of my mind was softened. But when my good father, laboring under old age and longing for me, prayed much to his son to offer honor to his final breaths, 360 and when time brewed misfortune for me—which indeed should never have happened—I ran again into the deep, fearing the groan of paternal movements, lest my love collapse into a curse; such is simplicity stirred to anger. 365 A little time passed, and again a storm, more savage than words can say. But nothing is lost by explaining everything to friends. My brother was performing a certain secular office. ^B

^A My brother! O most wicked one, how powerful you are! 370 He was the guardian of the treasury. But in the midst of his duty he dies, and a pack of dogs rushes upon the money and remnants of the deceased. Servants, strangers, and friends all tear everything apart. For who, when an oak has fallen, does not gather wood for himself? 375 As for me, so far as I am concerned, I would never have feared the incursions of affairs; for I am a bird, easily flying off to the heights. Yet it was necessary to endure everything together with my noble father, both the good and the contrary, 380 being a partner in affairs, though not in money. But just as those who have fixed their footing at first, once they stumble, fall into the depth of a precipice, no longer in control of themselves, ^B so also to me, having tasted of evils, 385 other troubles arose one after another. At one time there came to us—I will pass over the things in between, so as not to seem to bring an accusation against a man whom I have just now ceased praising—but there came to us the dearest of my friends, 390 Basil (alas, what shall I say? Yet I will say it), another father to me, much harsher. For one had to endure the former, even if he played the tyrant, but there was no necessity to endure the latter, for friendship that brings loss and does not deliver from evils 395 does not create such an obligation. I do not know if I should rather blame my own sins, which have bitten me much and often—the thing that happened effervesces always as if it were fresh—or your arrogance,

or rather the throne which has breathed its spirit into you. 400 For in all other matters, in our equal studies, perhaps you would not have thought yourself to excel, as indeed, most excellent one, you did not think formerly; or if you had thought so, perhaps some fair judge who knew us both well would have restrained you. 405 What then has happened to you? How is it that you have so suddenly cast us aside? May that law of friendship that so honors friends perish from life. Yesterday we were lions, but today I am a monkey, while to you even a lion is a small affair. 410 But if you regarded all your friends in such a way—I shall speak with a loud voice—you should have made an exception of me, whom you once used to place before all other friends, before being raised on high you held all things beneath you. ^A Ah, my soul, why do you boil? Restrain your steed by force. 415 Let the discourse turn once again toward the mark. That man was ^B a liar to me, though otherwise the most truthful of men, who, having often heard me say that all things are currently bearable to me, even if worse should befall, but that if my parents should leave this life, 420 it would be entirely reasonable for me to abandon all affairs, so that I might gain some fruit from a homeless life, easily becoming a citizen of any place—though he heard these things and approved of them in his own judgment, 425 yet he, along with my father, forced me into the episcopal throne, twice tripping me up in this way. Do not yet be troubled until you have learned the whole matter. If enemies had spent a long time deliberating on how they might disgrace me, I do not believe they would have found any other way.

430 Do you wish to hear? All those to whom the affair seemed unbecoming will tell you. As for how I conducted myself toward my friend, Pontus knows, and the city of the Caesareans knows, and all our mutual friends. 435 For it is petty to throw these things in my teeth; it is appropriate for someone who has received a benefit to be mindful of the benefits he has received, but by no means for the one who conferred them. As for what sort of person he was toward me, let the facts themselves bear witness. There is a certain station in the middle of a public highway 440 of the Cappadocians, which splits into a three-way road—waterless, grassless, and lacking everything refined—a miserably unpleasant and narrow little village. ^A Everything here is dust and noise and chariots, funerals, groans, tax collectors, torture, shackles, 445 and a multitude of people, those who are strangers and wanderers. This was the church of my Sasima. To these people he relegated me, he who had fifty chorepiscopi and was not lacking in resources—oh, what munificence! And even this was so that, while another was seizing it by force, 450 he might hold onto the chair by creating a new one. For we were counted among the first of his martial friends—for I was indeed a bold man once—and there is nothing terrible in blessed wounds. For in addition to the other things I have recounted, 455 it was not even possible to hold the throne without bloodshed; for it was a frontier between two rivals.

SECTION I. POEMS ABOUT HIMSELF

This was the state of things; and a terrible strife had grown up, ^A whose architect was the division of the fatherland, which established two cities as mothers of minor provinces. 460 Souls were the pretext, but in reality it was the love of lordship; for I am reluctant to say it, these revenues and tributes, by which the whole world is miserably agitated. What, then, before God, was it right for me to do? To remain? To accept the onsets of evils, 465 to be struck down untimely? To be choked in the mire, and not even to have a place where I might shelter this old age, constantly being thrust by force from my roof? Not having even bread to break for a guest, a poor man chosen to guide a poor people, 470 seeing absolutely nothing that I could successfully accomplish, but abounding in the evils which occur in cities: reaping the thorns of the tares, and not gathering roses, plucking evils stripped of any good? Ask of me some other fortitude, if you wish, 475 and propose this to those who are wiser than I. Such were the things Athens produced, and our shared labors in literature, and our life under the same roof and sharing the same table, one mind in both, not two—a wonder to Greece— ^B and the joining of right hands, that we might cast the world far away, 480 and ourselves might live a common life for God, and dedicate our words to the one wise Word. All has been scattered, all is cast to the ground, the winds carry away our ancient hopes. Where might one wander? Wild beasts, will you not receive me? 485 Among whom there is more trust, as it seems to me. Thus did these things stand, to speak briefly.

[alt-version omitted]

^A Since, however, I was bowed down—not in spirit, but in neck—what shall I say? From whence could I represent to you my entire anguish? Again, spurs are in me; 490 again, a certain flight and a running to the mountain, stealing away the manner of life I loved, my own delight. But what is the gain to me? For I was not, it seems, a steadfast fugitive. But, knowing how to endure all things, in this one thing I am lowborn: I cannot bear the anger of my father. 495 At first, then, my father makes a struggle to settle me at Sasima; but when he was weak, there was a second course: that I should not remain below, but labor with him (for he was already heavy ^B in body) and lighten his burdens, 500 stretching out his hands, and of this beard—laying hold, with what words does he use toward me?

"A father entreats you, dearest of sons, the old father the young, the master his servant, by nature and by a twofold law. 505 I do not ask you for gold, nor stones, nor silver, nor fields, my child, nor whatever belongs to luxury. I seek to place you near Aaron and Samuel, a precious attendant to God. He who gave you keeps you; child, do not dishonor me, 510 that you may meet with the grace of the only Father. The request is noble; but if not, it is nonetheless a father's. You have not yet traversed as much life as the time I have passed in offerings. Grant me this favor, grant it; or let another commit me to the tomb!"

METRICAL VERSION

^B As my neck is bent, but not my spirit, what shall I say, and in what way shall I disclose to you all my sorrow? I am stung again here, and again I plot a flight, and I quickly seek the mountain, and I pursue by stealth the kind of life I love. What has this profited me? For I was no steadfast fugitive; yet although I am firm in other matters, here I am craven: I cannot bear a father’s wrath. And at first he attempts to plant me at Sasima. When I stubbornly refuse this, he holds to another course, and asks that I not remain in a low station, but that I labor with him (for he was now very heavy with age), and that I be ready to lighten his burden: and he stretches out his hands, and at the same time takes hold of my beard, and uses these words to me: "O dear son, a father asks you as a suppliant, the old man asks the vigorous one, the master his servant. For nature and a double law subject you to me. I do not ask for money, nor shining stones, nor lands, nor whatever soft luxury commands. I desire to join you to Aaron and to the child of Anna, so that you may always assist the all-powerful God. He who gave you, has you; son, do not spurn your father. Thus may He alone be a gracious Father to you; I ask what is honorable: but if not, a father asks it. Not yet are your years as many as the years I have spent in sacred sacrifices; give what I ask, give it, I pray, or let another commit my body to the grave."

515 I set this penalty for my disobedience: Grant my remains these few short days, And thereafter, as you wish, you shall take counsel for yourself. When I heard these words, my soul— Like the sun casting off a cloud—grew somewhat lighter. 520 "What is happening? To what end do my afflictions lead?" I reasoned with myself that there would be no harm In fulfilling my father's desire as far as the seat. "For this," I said, "shall not hold me against my will— A man whom neither proclamation nor promise binds." 525 Thus did the victorious fear lead me on. But when my parents departed from life, Having obtained the inheritance for which they had long hastened, And I was left behind—not happily free— ^A I did not lay a finger upon the Church 530 that had been given to me, Not even to a single extent: neither to offer1 A sacrifice to God, nor to pray with the people, Nor to lay a hand upon any of the clergy. Yet regarding my father's—for they did not leave me be, As certain pious men adjured and urged me, 535 pointing out the machinations of many wicked men— I do not deny that for a short time I took some care of it, like a guest with another's. This very thing I always declared to the bishops, And from the depths of my heart I asked for this favor: 540 That they should set some man as overseer for that town— Truthfully asserting one thing, that I had not yet Received any church by public proclamation; And a second thing, that it had long ago been my resolve To flee both from friends and from affairs.

METRICAL VERSION

I, stubborn, pay this penalty for my fault. Grant me this small time, of which only a little Remains; and afterward, consult as you will. When I heard these things, and my mind already, like the sun a cloud, Had cast off no small heavy burden, "What is this? And what is the conclusion of my troubles?" I thought thus, that there would come no harm to me therefrom, If I were to fulfill the father's vows as far as the throne. "For not even this," I said, "shall bind me while I resist, Nor does any promise tie me." Thus did the fear that held the victory lead me back. But when my parents, having finished their final day, Held the seats long desired, I was left free, and quite uncomfortably so; I did not touch the Church given to me at Sasima, So as not to perform there even one sacred rite, Or join my prayers with the populace, Or lay my hands upon any; But of my father's house—because certain pious men Set me no limit to their entreaties, And announced the outcomes for the crowd and the profane— I do not deny that I took some care for a brief time, As a guest for another's. But I did not cease To tell this to the overseers of that sacred flock, Demanding in place of this great gift from them That they should place some bishop over the town; And truthfully saying this: that no seat Was given to me by public proclamation; And again that other, that it had long since Been settled in my heart to leave behind friends and business.

^A Since I could not persuade them—as some were moved by great affection to desire to hold me, and others perhaps were fastidious—I first fled to Seleucia, to the shrine of the famous virgin ^B Thecla. I said that perhaps, after being wearied by time, they would be persuaded to hand over the reins to someone else. And no short time passed for me there. But when I descended once again into my own troubles, I found not one of the good things I had expected, but a great multitude of the matters I had avoided, ^C appearing suddenly as if by some pre-appointment. At this point, my account will be more intense; I will say what I have to say, even though you know it well, so that if you do not have me, you may at least have this account as a remedy for your distress, a reproach to my enemies, and a testimony to my friends ^D regarding the injustices I have suffered, even though I have done none. Nature has not given two suns, but it has given two Romes, the lights of the whole inhabited world, the ancient power and the new, differing from each other only as much as one shines forth from the sunrise and the other from the evening, yet balancing beauty with beauty in equal measure. Regarding their faith, the ancient one has long since been, and still is, swift in its course, binding all the West with the saving doctrine, as is fitting for one who presides over all, honoring the entire harmony of God. But the new one formerly walked upright, though now no longer—I mean my own [church], or rather, the one that is no longer mine.

^A 575 But it lay in the depths of perdition, From which the light city, and full of all Evils, Alexandria—a witless fervor— Sent forth Arius, that abomination of desolation, Who first said: "The Trinity is not to be worshiped," 580 And set degrees of dignity for a single nature, Dividing unequally the indivisible essence, Until we were split into many paths. Yet, however miserable the city Was in this state, and by the law of long time 585 (For custom grown old is held as law), Having fallen into a wretched death from unbelief, It still had some small seed of vital breath, Souls perfect in the doctrine of the faith, A people small indeed, but, before God, greater, 590 Who counts not the multitude, but the hearts— A faithful planting, a most precious shoot. To these—for we were thought, in God, To be conspicuous both in life and in word, Though we had always lived a rustic life— 595 The grace of the Spirit sent us, Many shepherds and sheep calling, As helpers of the people and defenders of the word, So that we might refresh with a pious stream Souls parched with thirst and yet still green, 600 And that, with the nourishment of oil, the light might unite in the lamp. But the impetuous tongues and the twisted tangles, From which the simplicity of the faith departs— They are spider-webs, rotten prisons, Binding the light, provoking the laughter of the strong.

METRICAL VERSION

But not so thereafter, rather immersed in deep death: From which the city of Alexander, known for its Levity, and overwhelmed by every kind of crime, Feverish without a mind, bore the unspeakable Arius, Who first, denying the Trinity ought to be worshiped, Dared to assign degrees of honor To one substance, dividing it unevenly, not as it is, Until we were cut into very many paths. But miserable though the city was because of this state, And having a law by the favor of time (For old custom holds the place of law), And unhappily dead through heresy, It still possessed some small element of seed That was lifegiving, that is, minds upright in faith, Few in number, it is true, but great before God, ^B He who enumerates not the crowds, but the pious minds, Faithful plants, remains of highest price. To these (because we were believed to be in God Remarkable in speech and life, although we had almost Always followed a rustic style of living) The bounteous Spirit sent me, at the calling Of many from the people and likewise from the shepherds: That I might aid the people, take up arms for the faith, And with pious streams refresh minds dry with thirst, And those still just beginning to be green, And that by the feeding of oil the lamp might keep Its light, and the perfidious tongues, and the crafty Bonds through which simple faith perishes, And the spider’s threads, a flimsy prison, Which bind the light, might move the strong to laughter,

^A May these be broken or dissolved by solid arguments, that those who have fallen into the snares may escape. Thus I came, not by my own will, but drawn by men who applied force, so that I might defend the faith. For there was a rumor circulating of an assembly of ^B Bishops, who were introducing a novel heresy into the friendly Churches, a doctrine which this commingling of the Word of God with us, which He took upon Himself without change—assuming a man endowed with a soul, endowed with a mind, subject to the passions of the body, ^C the whole previous Adam, except for sin—this they cut away, and introduce a God lacking a mind, as if fearing that the mind might war against God (for thus I would also have to fear the nature of the flesh; for it is indeed this that is most remote from God), ^D or as if, while others stand in need of salvation, it were determined that the mind should utterly perish—the very thing which especially needs to be saved by my God, since it is the part that especially fell in the first human being; for it was with the mind that he received and contemplated the law. But that which contemplated, that also needed to be assumed. Do not, therefore, let the Word save only half of me, having suffered in the whole, nor let God be dishonored as having not assumed the whole of me, but only clay, a soul without a mind, and that of some brute animal, which, according to your doctrine, has indeed also been saved. Let every pious man cease from such things; for they stumble just as much by the contrary error, ^A but rather this is even further from God. 620 It is as if, while others stand in need of salvation, it were decreed that the mind must utterly perish, ^B which most of all needs to be saved by my God, ^C as it is that which especially fell in the first creation; for it was by the mind that he accepted and overlooked the law. 625 That which overlooked, this also must be assumed. ^D Therefore do not let the Word save only half of me, who have suffered in my entirety, nor let God be dishonored, as if He had not assumed the whole of me, but only clay, a soul lacking a mind, and that of some brute animal, 630 which is, by your word, saved. Let every pious person cease from such things; for they err equally from the opposite side.

To those who thoughtlessly introduce two sons, The one from God and the other from the Virgin; Who sever the lower harmony, Some paring it away, others perversely doubling it. For if there are two, I fear lest I recognize one of the two, Or, instead of one, we worship two gods. Or, being wary lest we fall into this error, Let us banish the composite [nature] from God; For if it is flesh, God would experience nothing. But human nature has participated in the whole of God, Not as a prophet, or some other inspired man, Who did not participate in God, but rather in the things of God; But it was endowed with (His) substance, as the sun is with rays. Let these men, therefore, depart from our discourse, If they do not worship, as one, the Man-God, ^A Him who assumed, and that which was assumed, He who is timeless, and that which was joined with time, He who is from the Father alone, and from the Mother alone, [With] two natures having come together into one Christ.

But as for my own affairs, what way did they have? We were brought into many evils. First of all, the city was stirred up against us, As if we were introducing more gods instead of one. It is no wonder; they were thus led, So as to be altogether ignorant of the pious doctrine, How the Monad is triadized, and again the Triad Is unified, being understood from both in a divine manner. And in addition to those suffering, the people are drawn [to them], As one who took pity on their then ruler and pastor, ^B An avenger of the suffering which he was enduring,

METRICAL VERSION

^A And the whale makes a house of prayer for the pious. He granted me glory in a foreign court. Then the fierce envy of my own people swells, 680 Dragging me toward Paul and a certain Apollos, Who never at any time took flesh for our sake, Neither poured out the blood of a precious passion. From whom we take our name, and not from the One who saved us? By whom all things are shaken and agitated, 685 As if the Church were enjoying a prosperous course in other respects. For how could a ship, or a city, or an army, Or a choir of people, or a friendly household Ever stand, if it possesses more that harms than that which saves? This, then, the people of Christ were suffering at that time. 690 For before they were established and attained boldness,

and before they had been fully freed from the swaddling clothes of infancy, ^A and were not yet firmly planted on their feet, the noble offspring was being struck, cast about, and torn to pieces in the very eyes of its parents, 695 by those wolves who hungered for my childlessness; for they did not think it tolerable that a man who was most poor, wrinkled, looking downward, and shabbily dressed, wasted by the constraints of his belly and by tears, and by fear of the future—as indeed by the evils of others, 700 and not having even a graceful complexion, a stranger, a wanderer, hidden in the darkness of the earth—should be honored more than the strong and the beautiful. For this was what was being heard from them, as it were: "We flatter, but thou doest not; we honor thrones, ^A 705 but thou, piety; for us, seasonings are pleasing, for thee, frugality; and while thou livest on delicate salt, thou spittest out the brine of proud luxuries. We serve the times and the desires of the peoples, ever giving the ship over to the blowing wind, 710 and like chameleons and cuttlefish putting many colors upon our words. But thou wast an indomitable anvil—such arrogance!—just as if there were always but one faith, holding the doctrine of truth very strictly in narrow straits, 715 and walking ever on the awkward path of the Word. But whence comes it to thee, O best of men, both to draw the people with a glib tongue, and to strike accurately those who think wickedly in their manifold error,

^A being to your friends a magnet, but to strangers a sling? If these things are not evils—as indeed they are not—why are you distressed as if suffering something outrageous? But if they are evils, and this seems so to you alone, judge righteously, as one who stands before God: smite me, who have offended, but let the people go, who have done no wrong except in loving me and being convinced by my teachings.

At first, indeed, I was able to bear it; for if the novelty of the thing disturbed me a little—like a sound falling suddenly upon the ears, or the speed of lightning to those unaccustomed to it—still I was yet without a wound, and able to endure all things. And the hope that I would be freed, and that I would never again fall into the same evil, persuaded me to bear the trouble more easily. ^B But the evils which subsequently arose for me from these things—how could I relate my labors? O inventor of evils, envious demon, how have you been able to fulfill such great evil? Neither blood, nor frogs, nor a cloud of gnats, nor the dog-fly, nor any destruction of cattle, nor pustules, nor hail, nor locust, nor darkness, nor the destruction of the firstborn—the ultimate of evils—has bent me (for these were the loudly-proclaimed scourges of the cruel Egyptians), nor even the wave of the Red Sea that shut in the people.

Who then urged us on? The levity of the Egyptians. And how it urged us on, it is worth saying; for it would be a pillar...

of our evils that shall ever stand.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

750 There was once among us in the city an effeminate man, An Egyptian specter, a rabid evil, A dog, a cur, a servant of the crossroads, A Mars, a silent bane, a monstrous beast, Fair and dark of hair, curly and simple in his locks; 753 Things partly ancient, and things but recently discovered; For art is a second creator. It is the greatest task of women, or indeed of men, To coil the golden, philosophic sisoe. The cosmetics on women's faces 760 Let the wise carry; for why should they alone be wise Regarding unseemly and evil beauty, Which is a register, even for those silent, of one's character, ^A As if men did not have their Maximos? The haircut revealed this, which had hitherto lain hidden, 765 Such marvels to us from the sages of today, That one is of double nature and form, Distributing himself miserably to both sexes— Hair for the women, a staff for the men. By which he boasted, seeming to be somebody in the city, 770 Shading his shoulders always with beloved ringlets, Sending his thoughts along with his flying locks, Bearing all his learning in his body. Having traveled many, as we hear, Perverse paths (which might concern others— 775 For I truly have no leisure to inquire into everything, Though books, however, contain as many of the magistrates' records as there are),

METRICAL VERSION

That which no day shall ever erase, I shall print. There was among us a certain effeminate man, An Egyptian specter, a rabid evil, a dog, A Cynic, a servant of the ways, a horrid Mars, And a mute blight, a most monstrous beast, Fair, dark, and with curly and simple hair. That was indeed old, but this, for him, was recently Discovered; for art is indeed a second creator: By which men and women are much distinguished, While they coil their philosophic and golden hair. For why should not the wise also, like the wise women, Wear those female cosmetics, An unlovely and wicked adornment, which even while silent, Betrays each one's character, and clearly indicates it. ^B Thus it was that the haircut, though not yet known, Then revealed the ruined Maximus to be such among men. These things those philosophers now show as prodigies, That one is double in nature and in gesture too, And miserably divides himself between either sex, Carrying poison in his staff, and displaying women in his hair. By these things he boasted of himself, as if famous among the citizens, Shading his shoulders always with ringlets, Thinking only of adorning his hair, Bearing all his knowledge only in his body. This man wandered through many evil ways, As rumor boasts (let whoever wishes inquire into these— For it is not our business to search out everything: Yet they are recorded in many books of the authorities).

At last he settles in this city. For he had none of his accustomed food: Acutely seeing, and wisely scenting— 780 (For let that which is wickedly constructed be called wise, ^A Inasmuch as it would expel me from the throne, Though I neither held it, nor had been elevated by any other honor, Except to guard and order the people), Yet he is wiser. For not through strangers, 785 But through ourselves, he weaves the whole drama, ^B As an expert and composer of evils, Through one who was unaccustomed to these and entirely alien to deceit, And who was accustomed to cultivate another kind of skill: To speak something wise, and to admire one who speaks, 790 And to select the heart of the divine scriptures. I wish to speak a new word concerning these evils. For it behooved him to be in every way, ^C Either innocent of evils, or complex. For some would have been harmed less by some, 795 If characters were either clashing or in harmony. But now, the better ones are a prey to the wicked. What is this great confusion of the creature! How very unequally we have been weighed by God! Who will see the worst of men ^D 800 Deceiving, weaving, and plotting, And stealing himself away by myriad shifts? For that which is easily moved toward wickedness Observes all things, and watches for the opportune moments; But that which is inclined toward good is slow, 805 And sluggish in its nature to suspect the worse. Thus, goodness is easily trapped.

Consider how he achieves this, and how deceitfully. You will see another Egyptian Proteus. He was one of my friends, and of those who were most 810 Trusty. Who was to me as Maximus was, A participant in my roof, my table, my dogmas, And my counsels? It was nothing great; for he was a great Dog, barking, forsooth, at the wrong-minded, And a fervent praiser of my discourses. 815 But together with these things, having taken Some disease of those in the priestly office, a remnant of the first sickness— This was ceaseless zeal, an innate evil. For wickedness is not easily bent. Acting as an unequal judge in these matters, friendly to himself, ^A 820 Using two accomplices in his bitterness— The first and the second, who were man-killers— He finally, with difficulty, brought forth the offspring of an asp. The first was Belial, once an angel; The second, a presbyter of this people, 825 A barbarian in mind more than in body, Who, having been neither despised nor having suffered anything untoward, Always holding the first places of honor and the thrones (Listen, Christ, and eye of justice, unerring, If indeed it is worthy to call upon Christ here), 830 Suddenly brought forth wicked and evil-minded hatred. Woe is me! How shall I lament? A bright, clear sky Is turned into darkness, and the assembled evil—

METRICAL VERSION

Observe, I pray, with what craft he manages the affair. You will see a certain new Pharian Proteus. That man became my friend, so that in fidelity Maximus surpassed all men toward me. I had him as a sharer of my table, my home, my Dogmas, and my counsels. For he was a great dog, Assailing the treacherous crowd with sharp barking, And raising my words with wonderful praises. And besides this, he catches a certain disease of the sacred Order, the remains of the primary disease. This was a perennial envy, an innate evil. For depravity can scarcely ever be bent. Exhibiting himself as an arbiter to these as he pleased, ^B And seeking help from these two cruel man-killers For his most foul crime, He finally at some point brought forth the offspring of an asp. The first of these was Lucifer, once an angel; The second, however, a presbyter of our flock, Himself more barbarian in mind than in body, Who, having never before been despised or harmed by me, Always holding the first places of honor and the throne— (Hear these things, Christ, O judge and light not wandering, If it is fitting to apply the name of Christ here)— Brings forth in me wicked and perfidious hatred. With what tears shall I pursue this? The serene ether Is tainted with darkness, and that evil—

^A From afar there came to us an Egyptian cloud. First came the scouts, whom that noble man once 835 sent out from the chosen land of Israel, save that they were not Joshua or Caleb, the wise men; but rather, if there be any outrage among the young or the old— Ammon, Apammon, Harpocras, Stippas, Rhodon, Anubis, Hermanubis, gods of Egypt, 840 monkey-shaped and dog-like demons, wretched and corrupt little sailors, who for a small coin would have put forward many gods, had there been more of them. Then, a little later, those who sent 845 these men—leaders worthy of the phalanx, or, to call them by a more appropriate name for dogs, the shepherds. For I shall say nothing more, ^A (although I am struggling within with many words, like a wine-skin bound tight, boiling with fermenting wine, 850 or like a bronze bellows full of breath), out of respect for the one who sent them, even if he be shallow-minded, and for those very men themselves, to whom perhaps some pardon might belong, having been drawn away out of rustic ignorance, moving wherever the wicked might lead them, 855 whom envy has brought forth for us here. Wise men, explain the problem. For it is not to me easily understood, unless one of the wise should declare: How did Peter himself, the arbiter of the shepherds, first establish us by letter, 859 so clearly free from such duplicity, as the letters themselves sent to us shall persuade, and honor us with the symbols of the throne?

Now in place of the maiden, a fawn has come to us: These things are not clear, these things require an interpreter. 865 What has ever been seen more theatrical than this, among many who have been wickedly persuaded in life? And another thing even more sportive will be seen. One companion said that wine has power over all things, another, woman, and the wise man, truth. 870 I, however, would have said gold, as it holds sway. Everything is easily manipulated by it. It is not yet the terrible thing, if the things of the world alone prevail with us more than those of the Spirit. But whence did the dog get the gold? We must inquire. 875 A certain presbyter, having come here from Thasos, carrying gold for the church that is there, with which to purchase slabs from Proconnesus— ^A having ensnared this man and taken him as an accomplice, and having bound the wretch with many expectations— 880 (for the wicked are most quickly joined with the wicked), he held the gold as an attendant for all purposes, a faithful fellow-worker, a genuine partner in trade. And a proof: for those who formerly honored me, as an unprofitable, goldless friend, 885 now despise me, dearest as they were, and easily they incline toward the worse, like the pivot of a balance. It was night; I was suffering; but they, like wolves, appeared as thieves suddenly within the fold, having many hired men from the fleet, 890 by whom Alexandria is most easily set ablaze (for they clearly fall in with the fleet), they were eager to shear the dog upon the throne.

METRICAL VERSION

Now there comes, however, in the maiden’s place, a fawn: These things are not clear, these things need an interpreter. What has ever been seen more worthy of the stage, although many things played have been very wicked? Another thing you will see, which is more of a farce. One person asserted that wine conquers all, but another, woman: a third gave the palm to truth. But I would have given the greatest power to gold, which turns all things according to its will. But that we deem fleeting things of more value than those which pertain to the Spirit, is no less grave. We must see whence the gold comes to the dog. By chance a certain presbyter from Thasos had arrived in the city, carrying public gold with him, so that he might buy slabs for the worship of the holy house. ^B Him he beguiled with a smooth voice, and holding him bound by certain and ample hopes (for the guilty man immediately joins himself to the guilty), he gains possession of the gold, and uses this as a minister for everything, and seeks from this point the support he needs. This will be clear from the following: for the crowd that formerly honored me, the same crowd, since I am of no use, thinks that I lack gold, and values me at nothing: and it leans toward the worse, as a scale in a balance. It was night, and I was ill, when they, like wolves maddened with rage, having entered the fold, having many sailors, obtained by money— such as easily are wont to set Alexandria on fire (for the inrushing troop joined them to itself), they hasten to shear the dog set in his seat.

^A And so they accomplish the remainder of this drama. For they were led into the filthy dwelling of a flute-player— 910 those grave men who were also friends of God— and, having with them a rabble of some of the lowest castaways as a people, they appoint as shepherd of the dogs the most wicked one, shorn indeed, but not bound or forced. For the dog was truly eager for better things. 915 A cutting off came upon his long-cherished locks, easily unwinding the long labor of hands, bringing him only this one gift: that it uncovered the mystery of the hair, in which all his strength lay— 920 just as they tell of the judge Samson in times past, whom his shorn hair betrayed, a harvest of locks (cut) in an untimely, wind-blasted summer, which some woman had cut off for the sake of his enemies.

A shepherd having been shown to be a dog, and from a shepherd 925 a dog he appears again—O the ignominy! A destitute dog, bearing neither the beauty of his hair any longer, nor tending the flock, but running again to the bones of the shambles. What then will you do with your fine hair? Will you grow it again with diligence, or will you remain a laughingstock and a tale? For both are shameful, and it is impossible to find any one thing between the two, except for a noose. Where will you place my hairs, and where will you send them? To the scenes of the theaters, tell me, or to virgins? 935 To which of these again? Or to your Corinthians, with whom you once performed the mysteries, sharing them alone with them alone, in all-wise fashion? For which reasons I will rather call you a dog of heaven. ^A At once the city was so greatly pained by the evils that had happened at that time, that all were gnashing their teeth; the whole of it poured forth bitter words, accusers of his life, while anger was bringing out what their minds were beating together. One person contributed one thing, another another, toward the harmonious description 945 from every side of a single perfect villain. For just as in the body small ailments unite with great illnesses, even if they had happened to be at rest while the strength was yet firm, so the final sedition brought to light all that man's previous evils. But these things would never come forth from me; those who speak of them know them. But I bite my lip, ^B lest I call you a dog of heaven. Certainly, because of the crime committed then, such great grief seized the city, that there was no one who was not then raging, and pouring out many bitter things against him, which would tear his life to pieces; for anger was carrying away whatever the mind had devised. This man brought out that thing, that man another, by which the perversity of one notable man was depicted. For just as the light injuries of the body are accustomed to join with the heavy diseases of fevers, even if they were quiet while the strength was yet vigorous; so the latest sedition brought all the marks of his old crimes into clear light. But that I should ever utter these things, may God avert it: those who speak know them. But I, because of his former...

^A reverence, though I had been wronged, stood silent. What then? Did you not hold this man among your friends, 955 and deem him worthy of the greatest praises? Some one of those who know these things might perhaps encounter me and blame my easy-going nature, through which I honored even the vilest dogs. I suffered an ignorance worthy of hatred; 960 I was deceived, as Adam was by the evil taste. Fair to the sight was that bitter tree. The appearance misled me, as well as his profession of faith and his words up to the face. For nothing is more easily persuaded than a faithful man, 965 who is readily moved toward piety, whether it is real or just apparent. O honest defect! For what each man desires, that he also believes.

What was I to do? Tell me, O wisest ones. What other thing does any of you think he would have done, 970 when the Church was still so narrow at that time, that one had to glean even from the stubble? For the constricted time does not grant as much authority as does the time that is full and broad. It was a very great thing to me that even a dog was treading the threshold of my fold, 975 and venerating Christ in place of Hercules. But there was something greater still: he had made his flight, which was for the most shameful reasons, appear as faith, as if he were suffering for the sake of God. He was a scourge, but to me he was a victor. If this is a terrible thing, I know that I have often, many times, 980 committed such sins. Will you forgive me, O judges, for this noble sin? He was indeed most wicked, but I honored him as one good.

METRICAL VERSION

What then? Was he not dear to you a short time ago? Did you not extol him with the highest praises before? Perhaps someone who knows these things will speak, And turn this easy-going nature of mine into a charge, Through which I honored even the most wretched dogs. Wholly to be blamed is this ignorance of mine. Taste, as it did Adam’s, dragged me into base deceit. The tree was fair to the sight, but not so in reality. The mask of faith deceived me; they fashioned a disguise For me, those words uttered from a wily heart. For nothing is more credulous than a faithful man Who willingly betakes himself to pious men, Or thinks them to be such; an honest vice! For everyone easily believes what he desires.

^B What was to be done, tell me, O wise men? Does some other course please any of you, When the Church was still so narrow, That I was compelled to gather even the stubble? For constrained times do not permit such indulgence As those times which are wide and flow broad. I deemed it a great thing that a dog should tread My fold, and in the place of Alcides worship God’s Son. And greater still, that he should veil his flight, Made for grave failings, as if he had suffered it for God. He who had been beaten as one guilty, I falsely Thought a martyr. If this is grievous, I have committed Such things often. O judges, forgive, And grant pardon, I pray, for a noble fault. He was a scoundrel: but I honored him as a good man.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

I shall speak something even bolder. Behold, I proffer the untimely and wordy 985 Tongue; whoever wishes, let him cut it off without mercy. Why has it not been cut? Or does it seem to you to be so Much? It is silent for long, and it will be silent even longer, Perhaps paying the penalty for its untimeliness, So that it may learn not to favor everyone. 990 What, moreover, of this? Let this only be added: Truly, wickedness is devoid of reason. For whom kindness has not made gentle, What else among all things could ever do so? For truly, truly, honor is no different from reproach. 995 What will you say of his character? A great evil. If these things are credible, seek nothing more. But if they are not true, do not even accept the former. ^A What could be more unassailable than these things? Thus the evil man was thence driven out evilly, 1000 Or, to speak more truthfully, the evil man was driven out well. But when, bringing evil upon the tribes of the barbarians, The King of the East had Thessalonica As a base of operations, what then does The most wicked dog plot? Consider it with me again. 1005 Taking that dreg-like Egyptian rabble (meaning those who had shorn him indecorously), In order to secure for himself the chair by royal command, He runs to the army. And thence again, like a dog, cast out 1010 With much anger and dreadful oaths (For not yet had the ears of anyone been Badly disposed against us, but were still sound).

He betakes himself again to Alexandria, Doing this correctly, and wisely, if only in this. 1015 For against Peter, whose stylus was once bifid, Readily writing all things contrary, Having with him a mercenary troop of the homeless, He fastens himself, and brings the old man into straits, Either asking for that throne which he had hoped for, 1020 Or saying that the present one shall not be surrendered; As long as he is, he is sent away to avoid The kindled flame, lest it should add some new trouble To the ancient ones, as it was likely, fearing, to do. And now he seems to be quiet, but I have a fear 1025 Lest a cloud heavy and pregnant with hail, Gathered from a violent wind, Should pour its hail upon those who do not suspect it. ^A For wickedness is never calm; It will understand nothing, even if it be restrained for the moment. 1030 Such are the things the dogs of the present day philosophize, Dogs that bark, and are dogs in this alone. What is like this in Diogenes, or Antisthenes? What is Crates to you all? Spit out 1100 The Peripatetics of Plato; the Stoa is nothing. 1035 O Socrates, you have held the first place until now. I will utter something more certain than the Pythia: Maximus is of all men the wisest. But I, patient of suffering, if any man living is, I was so from the beginning, and am so even more now, 1040 By labors from the land, and by dangers in the sea, From which I have been saved, and great is the gratitude to my fears; These have clearly surrendered me to the things above.

[alt-version omitted]

Rising above all things that lead astray. Yet, not bearing the dishonor of that time, ^A 1045 And gladly seizing the opportunity, When I perceived that the most base man had been shorn, While all my friends were pressing upon me, Who even held me inside a secret guard, Watching my impulses, my goings out, and my movements; 1050 And while all my enemies were beholding this struggle, Thinking this cleavage was the destruction of the Word— Seeing these things, and being unable to endure them, I suffer something of a man (for I will not deny it)— Something simpler rather than wiser. 1055 For I immediately turn the stern, as they say, Though not skillfully. For no one would have perceived it.

^A Now, however, a certain farewell speech broke forth, Which I poured out from the labors of my paternal heart: "Guard the whole Trinity, which I have delivered, 1060 As a most bountiful father to beloved children, And remember, most dear ones, my labors." And when the people heard this word, With someone crying out from among the unruly, They rose up immediately, just as from the violence of smoke 1065 A swarm of bees, and rave with shouts: Men, women, virgins, youths, Children, old men, the noble, the ignoble, Rulers, and some resting from the army, Each boiling equally with anger and longing: 1070 Anger against the enemies, and longing for the shepherd.

But it is not my way to bend the knee to violence, Nor to embrace an unlawful installation, I who have not even been forced to accept a lawful one. They turn to another path to satisfy their longing. 1075 Using many oaths and entreaties, They deemed it right at least that I should be present and bring aid, And not abandon the flock to the wolves. How could I endure to hold back my tears? Anastasia, most venerable of temples, ^A 1080 You who raised up the faith that was lying on the ground, Noah's ark, which alone fleeing the deluge of the world, Bore a second, orthodox world in your seeds: To you a great people flows from everywhere, 1085 As the greatest of dangers was standing, [Asking] whether I was to prevail, or their longing? I was voiceless in the midst, full of darkness, Having no way to suppress the voices, Nor any way to promise any of the things requested. 1090 For the former was impossible, and the latter was feared. Heat pressed hard, and their bodies were drenched [with sweat]. Women were losing their voices in fear, And among them, especially those who were mothers. The wailing of children; and the day had declined. 1095 Everyone swore not to withdraw before this toil, Even if it were necessary to be buried in the temple honorably, Than to reject a word of their desires, A word such as one is forced by the labor to utter.

METRICAL VERSION

Alas for my hearing! Why was not either ear straightway closed then? 1100 “For you will cast out the Trinity with yourself,” he said. At last, fearing lest some danger should arise, not even thus did I swear (for I am unsworn, that I too might boast a little in God, by whose grace I have been washed in the Spirit), 1105 but I promised in words ^A to which my character gave credence, that I would remain until certain of the scouts should appear (for they were expected at that time), hoping that then I might myself release myself from the cares of others. Thus we were parted from one another with difficulty, 1110 with both sides victorious in the shadow of hope: for they, as if they had me, were rejoicing, and I, as if I were to remain but a little longer. These were the circumstances. But the divine word shone forth again, most swiftly reinforced, like an embankment, 1115 or a phalanx, on the part that had suffered, through the speed of the general and the multitude of hands. For they who previously were bound by the chains of dogmas, and held this as the only reason for sitting with us, when they perceived what I was suffering, loved us the more. 1120 For the proclaimed Trinity led them, which for a long time was not proclaimed (for I fear to call it long-buried), the ancestral and yet foreign doctrine. For it was at one time, then ceased, then returned 1125 confirming the faith of the resurrection from the graves. To some of them, perhaps, there was a discourse of my own words. Others ran to me as to a stout athlete, and others gladly held me as a work of their own. Some of you, learn these things from those who know them well, 1130 and others recount them to those who do not know (if any are so far removed from you, or from the power which now rules the Italians).

So that these things may be spoken of to posterity as another of the new evils of life, 1135 which a vain train of days brings, mingling more evils with the good. I do not yet mean the people correct in their faith, that noble fruit of my travail—whom, when no one of the orthodox appeared 1140 to advance, it is possible to say, they ran to me, ^A as the thirsty run to waters that appear, seeking in the word of my discourse a relief from famine, or as those who are deeply darkened run to a small light. What, then, could one say of those who are strangers to the faith, 1145 how they rejoiced in my word, if he remembers? For there are many ways that lead far astray from the straight and ordered path, all of them leading to the depths of destruction, into which the corrupter divided the image 1150 so that he might take occasion to creep in from thence, cutting the modes of thought, not the languages, as God did of old. Hence are the diseases of doctrines: those who know nothing of the divine save only a motion by which all these things are said to be born and moved; 1155 those who introduce a multitude of gods instead of the One, and fall down before their own handiwork; those who do not ascribe providence to the things below, but weave all things together in the knots of the stars; and as many as, being the chosen people of God, 1160 crucified the Son for the honor of the Father; and as many as are pious in small precepts, and the angels, and spirits, and the resurrection.

METRICAL VERSION

So that posterity also may speak of these things, just as of any other of the many evils of life, which long time drags with it, binding a greater mass of evil to the good. I do not speak of the people endowed with whole faith, the noble fruit of our mind, who, when they had no other orthodox man at hand, ran swiftly to me, as those parched by harsh thirst run to thin waters, or as those pressed by darkness are wont to do to a small light, that my words might lift their heavy famine. What shall I say of those far removed from the holy faith? How much joy did my discourse bring to them? A thousand paths turn aside from the straight way, which all alike lead to black Tartarus: ^B the cruel corrupter tore into them the image of God, so that he might thus cunningly find a crevice through which to creep, cutting minds—not, as God once did, harmful tongues. From this source, various and grave diseases of dogmas have flowed. Hence, there are those for whom God is merely a single chance, and they declare that all things spring from this and are ruled by it; hence, those who bring in a great crowd of gods and bend the knee to things created by themselves; hence, those who deny that providence is concerned with things below, and wish all things to be woven together by the conjunction of the stars; and those who, though they were the chosen nation of God, killed the Son by means of the cross for the worship of the Father: and those who, keeping minor mandates, wish to be considered pious, and [who reject] spirits and angels.

And those who deny the writings of the prophets; and those who worship Christ in the shadows of the law; 1165 those who honor Bythos and Sige as pre-temporal natures, and the male-female Aeons—sons of Simon the mage, shoots from whom—those who compose the Godhead out of letters; those who assign the Old and the New Testament to two gods 1170—to the austere and the good; those who posit three unmoving natures, that of the spirit, of the dust, and the one between them both; those who delight in the primal darkness of Manes; those who wickedly honor the spirit of Montanus; 1175 those who [show] the empty lifting of the eyebrow of Novatus; those who contract the indivisible Trinity; those who divide the undivided nature.

^A And again, from these, as if from a single hydra, many heads of impiety have grown, 1180 he who counts the Spirit only among created things, and he who joins the Son to the Spirit; those who introduce a God of age equal to Caesar; those who introduce the "appearance" [of flesh] in a strange manner; those who say there is a second, lower Son; 1185 those who say that that which was saved was not perfect, but [devoid of mind]. These are, to speak in summary, the clivages of right faith, and mothers of absurd opinions. Who among them was so stubborn then, 1190 as not to incline his ear to my arguments? For the force of their doctrines carried some away, while others were softened by the manner of my speech. For not through hatred, nor even with railing...

[alt-version omitted]

^A did I advance my arguments—suffering for them, not striking them, nor puffed up by the fleeting and deceitful time, as some are. For what fellowship has speech with power? Nor did I make the boldness of their folly a subject of controversy; for this is a cleverly devised and cuttlefish-like thing, to spew blackness from the depths 1200 so as to escape exposure in the gloom. But I approached them mildly and appropriately in my words, as an advocate of a compassionate and gentle speech, striking no one—whence it is also reasonable to be overcome, 1205 and far more honorable to prevail, in being won over to God by persuasive force. Such things were inscribed upon my tablets.

This other law of my instruction also stood, wisely and nobly written: 1210 not to know one path of piety—that easy and base itch of the tongue. Neither in theaters, nor in markets, nor in the midst of companions, laughing together and softened by songs, before the tongue has been washed clean of shameful speech, 1215 nor into profane ears and those strange to Christ, is one to cast the mystical words recklessly, playing with those things which are sought with labor; but to be pious as much as possible in keeping the commandments.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

1215 Providing for the poor, receiving guests, healing the sick, ^A 1220 persevering in psalms, in prayers, in groans, in tears, in bedding on the ground; curbing the belly, restraining the senses, moderating anger, laughter, and the lips, subduing the flesh with the strength of the spirit. 1225 For there are many ways of salvation, all leading to communion with God; you must travel these, not only the one that consists in speech. For the word of simple faith suffices, by which God indeed saves the majority. 1230 If faith should fall only to the wise, nothing would be poorer among us than God. But if you are a lover of language, or full of zeal, and it is a terrible thing for you if a word does not flow from you (for I pray that you too have something human in this), 1235 speak, but in fear, and not always, not everything, not among all, and not everywhere. But there is a time, as you hear, for every deed; measure is the best thing, as one of the sages says. 1240 Separate are the boundaries of the Mysians and Phrygians, ^B separate are the discourses of outsiders and my own. For the discourses of the former are for display in the gatherings of youths, and in fabrications, in which it matters little whether one succeeds in hitting the mark or not. 1245 For nothing is weaker than a shadow, a shadow indeed. But for us (for to speak the truth is our goal)

^A to hold to one's discourse or not, involves danger. For the way is precipitous on both sides, and to fall from it is clearly to fall into the gates of Hades. 1250 Wherefore, one must be most cautious regarding words, both in speaking them and in hearing them wisely; and there are times when, equally withdrawing from both, one must use a righteous balance, namely, fear. For the tongue brings less danger than the ear, 1255 and it is even less dangerous to flee from the scene than to listen. For what need is there for you to touch a torpedo fish and bring numbness to your mind? Or to draw near to the breath of a mad dog? Thus, having learned from the oracles of the Scriptures, 1260 in which I was nurtured before my mind was fully formed, and thus guiding both citizens and strangers, I was already numbered among the wealthy farmers, 1265 though my harvest could not be gathered all at once. For some I had just then cleared of thorns; others were being leveled, while for others the seed was being cast; some were in the milk, others were springing up from the earth, 1270 others were turning green, others were being bound into sheaves, others were ripening, and others were white for the harvest; one had a threshing floor, and another’s friend was a stack; 1275 others were being winnowed, and others were inside with the wheat, 1280 and others were bread, the end of the farming—bread which now does not feed the farmer who labored, but rather those who have not even been sprinkled by sweat. I wanted to end the discourse here, and to say nothing of matters unworthy of discourse. 1285 Now, however, the progress of events does not allow me to, of which some have turned out well, while others I know not.

SECTION I: POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

How I must speak, and to which side I must assign, And whom I must praise. While matters stood In this state for us, suddenly the Emperor arrived, 1280 From Macedonia, having stayed the cloud of barbarians, Sharpened by both great multitude and boldness, A man not bad, so far as holding fast The simpler souls in the faith of God, And being overcome, in a way surpassing nature, by the Trinity— 1285 (For this is a matter of the heart, even the inward word of all Who stand securely upon a firm foundation)— Yet not so much so in the zeal of the spirit As to balance the present with the past, Healing the failures of time in due season— 1290 Or if he was an equal in zeal, he was not an equal in— What shall I say? Confidence, or audacity? You teach me. ^A Perhaps it is better to call it prudence. For I think it lawful, and something of an advantage to us, And to those very ones whom we brought to God, 1295 Not to coerce, but to persuade. For that which is involuntary, constrained by force, Just as a bow bound by string and hands, Or a stream compressed on every side in a conduit, When the opportunity is given, despises the force. 1300 But that which is voluntary is firm for all time, Bound by the indissoluble ties of affection. Pondering these things, he seems to me, for the moment, To have restrained fear, drawing all men gently, Proposing the will as the written law of persuasion.

^A As he approached ^A, gladly to those who gladly received him, How he honored me at that first sight, By what he said, and by what he heard most kindly, What need is there for me to tell? For it would be shameful If, old as I am, I were to boast of such things, 1310 Since for me, that thing alone is of value: God. The end of it was this: “God,” he says, “gives you the temple, Through us, for you and for your labors.” A word incredible before the matter reached its end. For the city was standing in such power, ^B 1315 With such great and terrible heat, That even if anything unpleasant might happen, They would not yield, but would hold what they held; And if they were pushed further, they would yet show their fierce resentment, 1320 He said this—but a throbbing of joy, mingled with trembling, Took hold of me. O my Christ, You who call us to suffer through the things You have suffered, You were then the judge of my labors, And now, be for me a soother of evils. 1325 The time had come. An armed host held the temple, Posted within the halls. The entire populace, swelling up, surged back— Like the sand of the seas, or snow, or the motion of waves— Mixed with anger and prayers, 1330 With anger against us, but with prayers towards the emperor. Full were the roads, the lanes, the squares, every place; Two-storied and three-storied houses were leaning down ^C with those gazing upon the spectacle, both men and women. ^D

METRICAL VERSION

As the eager one came to those eager for him, With what honor he at once embraced me, how he spoke, And how he had heard with most willing ear— What need to tell? It would be shameful For me, so aged, to boast of such things, I who deem all things of little account except God. Finally he says this: “God now gives you This temple, through us, and grants it to your labors.” A word beyond belief, until the deed was done. For thus the city stood, full of impetus, Fervent in spirit, so that even if some heavy thing Had come of this, there was no hope that they Would yield the throne, but they would hold it; But if they were forced, they would make short work of an assault On me, whom they could easily overcome. He said these things; but fear joined with joy Then held me. My Christ, who through Your own Cross stir us to bear our crosses, And then gave reward to my labor, Be now my solace in such great evils. The time was now at hand; a great force of soldiers Held the temple, carrying weapons of war. The entire people, swelling up, made an assault Like sand, or snow, or the waves of the sea, Using both anger and prayers, and flatteries at once, Angry against us, suppliant to the prince. Full were the streets, and full were all the places, Full were the houses with both men and women,

^A Of men, of women, of infants, of the aged; Pains, groans, tears, roarings, 1335 An image of a city captured by force. I, the noble commander and leader, And this in an ailing and broken state, With this little body of mine barely breathing, Midway between commander and army, looking upward, 1340 Using hope as a helper, Until I attained to the temple—I know not how. And this, too, is worth telling; for to many Of those present it seemed to be beyond description, To those who think nothing of what is seen 1345 Happens by chance, especially in the greatest Reversals of the times. But I cannot deny belief to those who speak, Although I am averse to strange things, if anyone is. For it is worse to resist all things equally ^B Than to be willing to believe everything readily; 1350 The former is levity, the latter is boldness. What, then, is the wonder? O book, proclaim to the age, So that such great grace may not remain hidden from those who come after. It was dawn, but night covered the whole city, A cloud having run under the circle of the sun, 1355 A thing least fitting for that particular time. For nothing loves clear weather like a public festival. This gave joy to the enemies, As if the things being done were displeasing to God, But to us, a hidden grief in our minds. 1360 But when I and the power of the purple Were inside the venerable chancel screens, And a common praise of God was raised from all.

[alt-version omitted]

^A And the raising of hands, such a beam of the sun shone forth 1365 The cloud having been rent by the command of God, So that all the house, which before had been gloomy, Immediately became lightning-filled, And all took on the image of the ancient tabernacle, Which the brightness of God used to cover, 1370 And a serenity of countenance and mind possessed them all. Then, indeed, with confidence approaching the spectacle, They clamored, seeking us with all their might, As if this one thing were lacking to those present, And that this would be the first and greatest favor 1375 From the first authority to be granted to the city before the thrones, ^B To have us given to the thrones of the city. Such were the cries from the men in authority and those below, All equally longing for the Word. Such were the things shouted aloud from the women on high, 1380 Almost beyond what is becoming for women. There was a thunder, incredible, being echoed back, Until I, having caused one of my fellow-presbyters to rise from the thrones; for to me there was no strength of voice, Constrained and exhausted by fear; 1385 I spoke these words with another's tongue: "Desist, O men, desist from the shouting. For this present time is entirely one for thanksgiving, And the time for greater things will come hereafter."

METRICAL VERSION

With outstretched palms they begged for his aid: Such a beam of sun suddenly shone forth, With the cloud broken by the command of the Thunderer, So that the house, as before sad and mourning, Struck the sight of all with its brightness: And all took on the image of the ancient ark, Which the great clarity of God used to cover: And the cloud of the mind and the face at once fled. When this sight had released the pious people from their fear, With loud voices they demand me, As if nothing were wanting to the occasion. This, they said, would be the first and supreme gift of the prince, Which the city would value before the thrones themselves, If he should grant me to the thrones of the city. This those endowed with dignity, this the common people seek. To this the prayers of all, without exception, tend. With great clamor the women also seek this, So that they almost exceeded the law of decorum. This matter was equal to a broken thunderclap. Here I bid a certain colleague to rise from his seat; For I could not speak, being too much Constrained and terrified by great fear: And through his voice I address the people thus: "Check, I pray, check this shouting, O men; Now is the time for thanks to be given to the highest God: For things which are greater, there will be their own time."

"»

^A The people murmured at the things I had spoken. 1590 For modesty is dear to all. The emperor himself also departed, having praised these [words]. Such, then, was the outcome of this assembly, Which had terrified us in this one respect alone, To the extent that a sword, having been unsheathed and again 1595 Cast back inside, might have broken the boldness of the hot-headed crowd. But how I shall set forth what follows from this point, I do not know, For it carries a certain weight in its matters. What writer could grant an end to my account? For I am ashamed of my own praises, 1400 Even though another speaks well of me. This is my law. Yet I shall speak, while remaining as moderate as my strength allows. It was within; but the city, though it had cast down Its insolence, since the temple was held, Yet groaned, like the giant, they say, 1405 Who, having been struck by a thunderbolt before the Etnean crag, Spewed forth smoke and fire from his depths. What, then, per God, was it right for me to do? Teach us, tell us, you who are now the executors, O assembly of wretched youths, 1410 To whom what is gentle is considered weak, But what is frantic and most base is manly: Is it right to push, to drive, to make savage, to set aflame,

^A or to use the time and power insatiably; or to heal with wholesome remedies? 1415 For thus it was possible to gain two good things: both to make them moderate by my own moderation, and to gain glory and love for myself. This was righteous, and this I shall appear to be doing always, and I did so then, as much as was possible. 1420 First, indeed, that I might show that I did not attribute more to the tide of time than to the power of God, what counsel do I receive from so illustrious an advisor, having reason as my surest counselor? When all were cultivating the arrogance of those in power, 1425 and especially of those who stand within as guards—men in all respects unmanly, except in their love of money— ^B 1428 What could one say, how and by what arts those who were attached to the very royal gates, accusing and taking excessively, 1430 evilly gorging themselves on piety, and behaving unseemly—to speak briefly— I learned that it is better to be desired alone than to be hated; and by my rarity I won respect, devoting my many efforts to God and to purification, 1435 and yielding to others the doors of the powerful. Then, seeing some who were anxious because of the wrongs they had committed against me, and others, as is natural, needing to receive kindness, 1440 to the former I lifted their fear, and the latter I helped, others according to their various needs, as I had the strength. [alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

By abusing the license of the time and the power ^A of the age, is it right to heal with wholesome remedies? For hence a double profit returned to me: while I draw them toward modesty, I同时 gather both love and clear honor. That was just, forsooth; wherefore I do this always with diligence, and at that time most of all. First, so that I might not appear to attribute more to the changing course of events than to the power of God—what reason, which to me is the most certain monitor, dictates here, and what it commands should be done here? When there was no one who did not court the courtly princes, and above others the servants of the bedchamber, ^B men sluggish (save for wealth) toward all things, and who by wondrous modes and arts always clung to the gleaming gates of the royal palace, tore others apart, took in a foul manner, misused the true faith most dreadfully, and behaved themselves indecorously, to speak briefly; I preferred to be missed than to arouse hatred against me. By appearing rarely, I won for myself veneration, being free for the supreme Divinity and for myself, leaving to others the gates of the powerful. Thereafter, seeing some anxious from fear—those who had wickedly perpetrated many things against me—but others again needing aid, I lifted the alarm from the former, and as for my strength, I helped the latter, as the convenience of each afforded.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

I shall relate one example out of many. I was once resting at home, held back by sickness, Which was the constant companion joined to my sufferings. We were living in luxury, as it seems to the envious. 1445 While I was in this state, suddenly some of the people Came in, and with them a young man, Pale, with long hair, dressed in mourning. And when I had drawn my feet from the bed A little bit, as those who are terrified are wont to do, 1450 They, having offered up to God and the king, as was fitting, Voices of thanksgiving in abundance, Because they had granted the present day, And having praised me with certain words, ^A Departed. But one man who suddenly had clung to my feet, 1455 A suppliant, voiceless, was utterly confounded. And while I was asking who he was, and whence, and what he needed, There was nothing more than greater outcries. He groaned, he sighed, the clasping of his hands Increased. A tear began to steal into my own eyes as well. 1460 But when he had been torn away by force (for it could not be done by words), One of those present said, "This man," he said, "is your slayer, For you, who look upon this light by the protection of God, Is present of his own accord, an executioner of his own conscience, A repentant killer, a noble accuser, 1465 He gives his tears as the price of blood." He said these things, and I was broken by his words,

and I uttered a voice that releases him from his evil: "May God save you; as for me, who have been saved, it is no great thing to appear kind to an executioner. 1470 Your boldness has made you mine. Look to it that you become worthy both of me and of God." I said these things; and the city (for it misses nothing that is excellent) was immediately softened, just as iron is by the movements of fire. 1475 For when I had found no reckoning in the writings 1480 of the former stewards of the Church ^A regarding the greatest of the temples of the whole world, which have been storing up from all time precious things and resources from every source, nor could I love, nor accept as a stranger, anyone—as some were advising me and urging me—to be an auditor of these things, an insult to the mystery; 1485 how much does it seem to you? For a man is held accountable only for what he has had, not for what it was right for him to receive. Whoever is a slave to money finds fault with this; but whoever is superior to it will welcome it all the more. For while the evil of greed is present in all, 1490 it is worse to be greedy in spiritual matters. If all thought thus concerning money, no such fullness could ever be found in the churches ^B (for I do not mean that of my own mind); I mean, rather, as much as concerns the minister, who draws near to God.

[alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

These things I said, and released him from the harm he had brought forth. "May God save you; since I have received salvation back, It becomes me to show myself gentle toward the assassin. Your boldness has made you mine: now look to it That you prove yourself worthy of yourself, and of God." I myself said these things; and the city immediately (For nothing excellent can remain hidden) Is softened, as iron is wont to be by a glowing fire. What shall I say of such great wealth, than which there is nothing more famous, Which the greatest men of the whole earth Had gathered for the sacred temples from every age? And concerning so many vessels, and also so many revenues, Of which, since I myself could not obtain an account In the writings of the former prelates anywhere, And because, on the other hand, I could not learn of it from the treasurers, I acquiesced: nor, although many men Urged otherwise, did I think it proper to summon a stranger to these accounts, To the disgrace of the mystery. How do you value this? For each man is held liable Only for what he has held, not what he ought to have held. Whoever is addicted to riches disapproves of this; But he who is free from the thirst for them will approve. For while the desire for wealth is foul in all things, It is much fouler, however, in sacred matters. If the mind of all men were such as mine concerning wealth, There would not be such a stain in the house of Christ (For it is not in my power to explain this). I speak of sacred ministers, and those who [serve] God

^A And this also was the gossip of the adversaries, that we would not even have enough people to fill the vestibules, we who were previously divided when we were poor; so much were we despised by all, compared to the multitudes of these present [days], both temples and [the] fullness of temples. 1500 These things were studied by us, not to speak of those whom I presided over: the poor, monks, virgins among the young, strangers, sojourners, prisoners, besides the psalmody and the tears of the all-night vigils, and the men and women practicing holiness, 1505 and all the other orderly things with which God delights. But the destroyer Envy did not rest, by which all things are captured, either openly or secretly; ^A it introduces the beginning of my evils from the throne. For all the East, except for Egypt, 1510 [all who are] presiding over peoples, as far as the second Rome, from the innermost recesses of earth and sea, having been moved—I know not by what counsels of God—they gather together, as if to fix ^B a pious dogma. Among these was a most pious man, 1515 simple, artless in his manner, filled with God, seeing serenity, casting a boldness mingled with reverence upon those who look [at him], a husbandry of the Spirit. Who is unaware of this man, whom my speech points out, the president of the Church of the Antiochenes, 1520 who was what he was called, and [also] what he was called, may he confess it to be a gift of God, and not attribute it to himself and the excellence of his own mind. [alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

Summo propinquant. Dictitabant hoc quoque Hostes, replendis atriis fore imparem Plebem, prius quæ secta erat, cum pauperes Essemus, adeo vilius me nil erat, Qui post habebam templa conferta undique. Hæc studia nostra tunc erant: ne pauperes, Monachosque referam, virginum et sanctos choros, Vinctos, peregrinos (quibus praefeceram Quosdam) nec hymnos, noctis et fletus vagæ, Studioque honesti deditos cum feminis Viros, aliaque, rite queis factis Deus Exsultat. At non poterat hic quiescere Carpens aperte livor, aut lecte; omnia. ^B Mala auspicatur hic mihi celso a throno. Nam quidquid Ortus præsulum, Ægyptum citra, Habebat, usque ad inclytam Romam novam, Terræ marisque ex intimis recessibus, Quo concitatum cœlitus pacto, haud scio, Coit repente, firmet ut thronum mihi. Quos inter unus vir erat pius admodum, Simplex, apertis moribus, plenus Deo, Placidusque vultu, fortis et pudens simul, Segetem vel ipso Spiritus visu indicans. Quis, nostra quem vox signat, ignorat virum, Antiochiæ urbis præsulem? In quo nomini Res congruebat, rursus ac nomen rei:

^A What was he? For both his way of life and his name were like honey. He who endured many things for the sake of the grace of the Holy Spirit (Even if an alien hand stole away a little thereof in passing), While refining that grace in brilliant contests. 1525 These men establish me upon these venerable thrones, While I cry out and lament; yet, for one reason only, I was not very unwilling. Bear witness to this, O Word. What is this? For it is not right to conceal the truth. I was not imagining vain things in my heart; 1530 (For the will is prone to hope, And all things are most easy to the fervor of the spirit, And I, otherwise, am high-minded in matters of this sort); If I should obtain the power of this throne (For the mere appearance carries much weight), 1535 just as a choragus in the midst of two choirs, Joining both his neighbors to himself, One from this side, the other from that, in the manner of a dance, Might unite those who were evilly divided; And how could they not be in a most evil state, worthy of abundant tears, 1540 of many lamentations and rendings, Such as no one, neither of the ancients nor of the new, Has ever stood over in any mournful affair, With many evils having fallen upon many men, Nor even the dispersion of Israel, which all sing of, 1545 which the Christ-killing envy agitated. For the leaders and teachers of the people, The dispensers of the Spirit, from whose high Thrones the saving word gushes forth,

1523 *Even if an alien.* Meletius, having been deceived by the fraud of the Arians, served for a time in their camp. 1529 *Vain things.* Thus Vat. and Coisl. editions. 1534 *Much weight.* The public splendor and show have much importance among men. 1536 *Those nearby.* Coisl. reads "to those." A beautiful comparison drawn from a chorus leader, who forms one out of two distinct choirs, while with one hand attaching one to himself, and with the other hand likewise another, and by this method joins them to each other; for in the same way, he said, I had the hope that if I were to accept the throne of Constantinople, I would reconcile the Easterns with the Westerns. For there was at that time a discord among them, both on account of other matters, and also on account of the Antiochene see. For Pope Damasus favored Paulinus, but the Easterns favored Meletius. 1545 *Which the Christ-killing.* That is, which, because of the death brought upon the Messiah, was scattered over the whole world by the most just anger of the Supreme Deity. Shortly thereafter: *envy*. Edit. reads *wrath*. 1548 *From the summits.* Thus Vat. and Coisl. Edit. reads *upon the summits*.

METRICAL VERSION

Namely, his name was honey-sweet, and such were his ways, He who bore many heavy burdens for the sake of the Holy Spirit, Although the hand of an outsider, in time past, Deceived him, while polishing grace in brilliant contests. These men place me now in these holy seats, Lamenting and groaning: yet for this one reason Not altogether with a sick mind; You are my witness, God. Why is this? For it is a sin for me to suppress the truth here. I thought, nourishing vain hopes in my breast (For desire is always prone to hope, And there is nothing that a fervent mind does not easily pursue, and I Carry a high spirit in such matters); Thus I might capture the leadership of the throne, (For the show itself also possesses great power), More like a chorus leader who, positioned Between two choirs, joins to himself the neighbor on either side, Holding one from here and another from there, in the rite of the chorus, I myself would bind together in a friendly pact Those who were disagreeing evilly, or rather, most evilly, And worthily so, with many tears and weepings, Such as neither formerly nor recently has anyone uttered, Even now, on account of any blows of adverse fate, However many great evils have befallen the many: Even if you bring up the dispersion of Israel, Which the Christ-killing fury destroyed. For the masters of the people and the high priests, The holy dispensers of the Spirit, and they who Pour out from high thrones the words by which salvation is produced,

^A they preach peace to all men always, 1550 with open voices in the midst of the churches. They have raged against one another with such bitterness, that, crying out and gathering allies, accusing and being accused, leaping and rushing hither and thither in their leaps, 1555 seizing those whom anyone might anticipate, in a madness for command and monarchy—(how shall I lament these things, and in what words?)—they have already torn asunder the whole inhabited world, as I said before when I was beginning my discourse. 1560 The severance of the Word ^B is considered more a thing of East and West than of places and climates. For those regions are united, if not by their extremities, at least by the lands between; but for these men, there is nothing that can bind those who are divided, not through piety (for anger, 1565 a prompt liar, makes a pretext of this), but through strife over thrones. Why do I say this of the objectives? I do not blame the objectives so much (for I know both of them moderately well), as I do those who are the evil, ambitious seekers of office on both sides, who blow like a breeze upon the kindled flame, 1570 and arrange their own affairs well among their friends—if indeed this is "well," and not rather very badly. I too have had my share of these evils. For since the one whom I recently praised, the overseer of the church of the Antiochenes,

^A full of years that are numbered and those that are not, having—as I hear—given many peaceful counsels, things which he had formerly been heard to utter to his friends, he then departed to the choir of the angels, with a divine procession and a pouring forth of the city ^B 1580 then grieving as much as is said, he was carried into his own church, a glorious treasure indeed to those who knew him. ^C But a deliberation was set before us—if one can call it deliberation—which the turbulent and wicked were stirring up, 1585 being earnest to set up another bishop against the one who then sat alone. ^D And many speeches were held on both sides, some peaceful, and some bringing ruin. Then I myself spoke the words which I deemed 1590 to be the best, and appropriate for driving away evils. "You do not all seem to me to understand these same things, friends, nor that those matters for which deliberation is now needed, are things which you think worthy of speech, but rather that you have fallen far short of what is necessary. 1595 For you, the concern is of one city, and how that one might now do battle, and even more; for this is the goal which you are aiming at, and you seek the help of my hand."

Metrical Version

In time, and who to time do not submit, After much warning, the goal for whom was peace, What he had often said before to his own friends, Hence was his rapture to the heavenly choirs, And great procession, and the city's rush, Struck then by deepest grief, as it is told, And borne forth to his church, A mighty treasure for those noting well this good: Regarding not moving the matter, it was at once begun, Which turbulent men, forsooth, were urging on, This the wicked devised, that then to one unique Bishop, a new bishop might be opposed. ^B Many words being said on both sides, which tended, To covenant on one side, and to pestilential strife on the other, Then I myself gave these voices, which useful And apt I deemed to be for solving ills. "Your conflicting opinions, friends, I behold, and you, for whom to act is meet, Not to waste these things in speech, but most aloof From the right mind to be astray. For your care is of one city only, And this, that now it might burn more with war. For your strivings now all tend here: For this you desire the favor and our hands."

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

^A But I propose to myself greater things, and such as will lack for nothing. 1600 Behold this great circle of the earth, Which has been sealed by the streams Of precious blood, when God suffered in the form of man, Who gave himself as a ransom for freedom, And was sealed also by many other lesser sacrifices: 1605 Let us suppose this is shaken by two angels; But not even they (I shall speak a word of one who grieves) Are worthy of such honor. On the contrary, By as much as they are angels, by so much the more Are they unworthy of battle and of worse things; 1610 Since that which is better is worthy of better things. As long, then, as that divine purpose was in the midst, ^B And it was not yet clear how those of the West Would receive the man, having been enraged up to that time, It was in some way excusable to grieve moderately 1615 Those who, as they say, are protectors of the laws. For a gentle man is a remedy for anger; And to be ignorant is a very great thing in regard to boldness. But now (for there is not even one storm, since God Has given tranquility to his own affairs), 1620 What do I say must be done? Receive my word, A word with foresight, wiser than that of the young. For we shall not persuade the old to abandon their fervor; For it is always less than empty glory. Let the throne be held by him who currently holds it.

What harm is there if we mourn this man for a little longer, as is the ancient custom? Then old age—that common, necessary, and noble term for the whole human race—will bring a solution to the matter. 1630 He, when he dies, will pass on to where he has long yearned to be, rendering his spirit to God who gave it. And we, at that time, with the shared resolve of all the people and the wise bishops, shall give the throne to another with the Spirit's help. 1635 In this way, there would be one solution to these evils. For either—which is the greater thing—we shall also bring in those from the outside (for the West, as I see it, is currently an outsider), or there will be this secondary course: that the city, the vast populace now wearied by time, should come to a common mind. 1640 May the world's storm at last cease, may it cease. Let us have pity on those who are now divided, on those who are near the suffering, and on those who come after. Let no one wish to know what will happen if these things are to be conquered by the length of time. 1645 It stands upon a razor’s edge whether our holy and venerable dogma will still be saved, or whether it will cease to be, dissolved by faction. Just as the failing of the colors is thought—though not rightly—to be the failure of the painter, 1650 or the character of the disciples to be that of the teachers, so, if the initiate is evil, how much more is the mystagogue an insult to the mystery? Let us be overcome a little, so that we may secure a greater victory, and be saved for God. [alt-version omitted]

1655 And let us save the world, so miserably ruined. Not in all things does victory bring glory. It is better to be despoiled than to possess wickedly. This the Trinity knows, and the brilliant preaching—pelted by stones—which I freely undertook, 1660 and which rendered me an object of envy to the wicked. These things have been spoken simply and justly today, as I know they will profit those who ponder them. If, however, one of the wicked suspects that I say these things for the sake of favor—as he himself has been bought, 1665 (for there are, there are indeed, buyers of prelates, bulging with gold and with equal eagerness), or that I am looking out for my own interests, as is the custom for many, while he himself practices the art of hiding in his own evils, ^A or that I am seeking power for myself from this, 1670 let him leave the judging to the final fire. But grant us a life without a throne, inglorious indeed, but nevertheless free from danger. I shall sit down, having gone to where there is a desert of wicked men; for it is better than being mixed with those nearby, 1675 neither having the power to drag another toward my intent, nor to be mingled with others where reason forbids. Come here, whoever knows what a throne is; he shall exchange many, both worthy and wicked men. Deliberate on these matters. The speech is finished. » 1680 I said these things: but they croaked on all sides, a multitude of jackdaws assembled into one, some rabble of youths, a new workshop,

a cyclone dragging dust, a conflict of winds, with whom no one perfect ^A would deign to speak with divine fear and authority; they foam in disorder, or like wasps they rush straight at one’s face in a swarm. And yet the venerable assembly of elders followed them—so far were they from correcting the youths! 1690 And consider their reasoning, how laudable it is. For they claimed that our affairs must align with the sun, from which they take their beginning, whence God shone upon us clothed in flesh. What then? Let us learn not to revere turning points, but to believe that the flesh of Christ is the first-fruits ^B of our entire race. But if he took his origin from there, someone might perhaps say—where there is more boldness—since it is easy for him to be put to death there, from this came resurrection, and from resurrection, salvation. Were those who held these opinions not bound to yield to those who, as I said, had understood the matter accurately? From this it is clear how haughty they are in other respects. And what of that other thing? The sweet and noble source ^C of the ancient faith, which gathered the venerable nature of the Trinity into one, of which Nicaea was once the training ground—that source I saw wretchedly muddied by the salty inflows of those who hold opinions on both sides, and whose faith is dubious. ^D

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

Those who think these things, of whom power is fond, 1710 Being in the middle, though it is desirable if they are in the middle, And not openly attached to opposing sides, Are bishops now learning about God, Yesterday teachers, and today students, Initiators, and then initiates second, 1715 Instructing the people, while their own evils I know not how, they nevertheless speak out, And this without tears—which is strange— A tearless utterance of sicknesses! These are after this fashion. For they say that 1720 All things serve the time. And what greater luxury than trickery? Which is neither acquired by labor, as things usually are, Nor is it procurable from elsewhere, nor is it even for sale.

A But we, how then are we so excessively humane? We added a proclamation in front of the steps; 1725 We shout to all: “Whoever wishes, let him enter hither, Even if someone happens to be two-faced or quite fickle. A festival stands ready. Let no one depart Without having accomplished something; if the die should turn (For there is nothing more changeable than time), 1730 You have the little craft, run back again.” It is not easy to be attached to one faith, But to know many ways of life. From this, what results? That long-standing, complex, Vision in dreams: gold, then silver, 1735 Bronze, iron, and clay at the feet. I fear lest the Stone shatter all things.

[alt-version omitted]

1709 "Those who think these things": So the Coislin codex. Wrongly in the printed editions. And rather if those who strengthen the things of the heresy might have an inclination from the emperors. 1710 "Desirable": The edition in the margin has "beloved." 1713 "Learning": Gregory here seems to criticize Nectarius, who was raised to the episcopacy while still a catechumen. See Tillemont, page 44, and Tollius, on the following poem, verse 550. 1719 "Time": The Vatican codex has "of the time." 1723 "We": The edition in the margin has "those of the orthodox faction." After he criticized Nectarius who, having undertaken no labors beforehand, was created bishop, and [critics also] the politicians—that is, he also criticizes the orthodox who so lightly elevate men of this sort to the most sublime dignities. But we, what did we do then? We seem not only to suffer these deceivers but even to entice them, and to invite them as if with the voice of a herald. 1726 "Two-faced": Even if he has changed his faith twice or many times. 1730 "Run back": So the Coislin and Vatican codices. The edition has "run out," and in the margin "depart." 1732 "Many ways of life": A person should always be one way or another, according to the variety of circumstances and times.

METRICAL VERSION

B We have used the greatest kindness. With the herald's mouth we address the threshold of the sanctuary To all: "Let him enter here, whoever wishes, Even though he may have changed his faith twice or many times. Now is the time of the market; let no one depart empty-handed: When the die has been turned (for time easily takes a change), You yourself know the art: proceed, and immediately return. It is not the way of a prudent man to dedicate himself to a single Faith, but to have many exits on this side and that." What comes from this? That old specter of a dream Becomes this: gold, then white silver, which bronze And iron follow, and at the weak parts, Clay. I fear lest the stone might break everything.

To the Moabites and Ammonites, for whom it was not permitted of old, Entrance is now open to the Church. Yet you, did you not praise these things formerly? Tell me. 1740 What power then held sway over the assemblies? What were the assemblies, and whose were they at that time? (For I am ashamed to say it again, those things of which I am embarrassed.) They were of everyone, which is to say, of no one; For rule by many is anarchy. 1745 My illness served me well, Keeping me at home for long and frequent periods, Directing my gaze to one thing only—that departure Which held the entire resolution of my troubles. But let what has been determined be established as law: 1750 Certain people, though with force and difficulty, ^A Yet they did assemble, those who had some measure of freedom, Those to whom ignorance of the evil was an advocate, Having been led astray by the duplicity of the doctrines, And by the proclamation in their midst that retained a pious appearance, 1755 An offspring altogether different from its parents. But that great rabble of those who make a business of Christ— I will admit them only when someone mixes ordure With the fragrance of holy myrrh. For easy is the communion of evil rather than of good. 1760 To these men, the one who held new opinions was not pleasing (This is what the reckless call the prudent), Nor were they to the prudent man. So it happens Just as it did for that Lot and the patriarch Abraham; The one walks this path, and the other the opposite one,

so that not even these may be narrowed by an abundance of possessions.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

1765 What need is there to say with how many and what kind of words these dearest friends importuned this white hair of mine? Yielding the first place to me, yet—alas!—asking for the genuine, the genuine Gregory. 1770 They were indeed genuine, but in a conspiracy of evils. That is, they sought to have me as one who would cooperate in all things. But how "in all things"? Who imagined such a thing, that the multitude would lead me toward something, and not God the Word? 1775 The nature of fountains would flow upward before that, and fire would travel the opposite course, than that I would betray any part of my salvation. From that moment I began to withdraw my foot from the midst of them; and it was clear, for I even exchanged my house, ^A withdrawing myself from the depths of the Church, 1780 far from evils and words and assemblies.

Yet how much those who were attached to me groaned! Especially the laity—not to mention everyone—shouting, they implored, raising their hands to God, adjuring me as if I were a dead man, 1785 now mourning. O the suffering! O the tears! How was it possible to endure these things? And whose heart could bear them? "Will you abandon us," they said, "your harvest that was once narrow but is now a rich crop; and the people who are proselytes, 1790 some standing at your doors, for whom it only remains to open, others already within, and the hunter of strangers—to whom will you abandon them? Who will nourish your offspring?"

[alt-version omitted]

Honor your own labors, which have exhausted you; give the remainder of your life to us and to God. 1795 Let this temple be the conclusion of your life. These things—the breaking—I felt, yet I remained steadfast. But shortly after, God provides the release. For they came, they arrived suddenly, being summoned, 1800 as if to contribute something to the goal of peace—Egyptians and Macedonians, laborers of the laws of God and the mysteries, ^A breathing upon us a western and harsh wind. Against them stood the nation of sun-minded men; and like boars sharpening their wild jaw 1805 (if I may imitate something of tragedy), looking askance, with merchant-like eyes, 1810 they engaged. In the many stirrings of anger, more than movements of reason, they looked into something of my own most bitter affairs, turning over laws long dead, 1810 from which we were for the most part clearly free. Yet not out of hatred for me, nor in haste to seize the throne for others, by no means; but as much as to pain those who had enthroned me—as they clearly persuaded me through secret messengers. For it was not bearable to see their insolence, as great as it was of old, and in new affairs. I, for a time, was like a horse in the stable, [restrained].

METRICAL VERSION

1793 Honor your labors, which have worn you out; grant what remains of life to us and to God. 1795 Let this temple be the close of your life. ^B By these I was indeed moved, yet I stood firm. But God soon grants a way out. For they came, summoned suddenly, to join their strength to confirm a treaty, the Egyptians and the Macedonians, diligent workers of the mysteries and the laws of God, breathing upon us a western and heavy wind. The eastern phalanx stood against them, swollen with rage; therefore, sharpening their teeth like fierce boars (it pleases me to imitate something of tragedy) and looking askance with flaming eyes, they come to blows. And in the midst of many debates, which anger stirred up more than reason, they snatched at something of my own affairs most bitterly, turning over laws dead long ago, from which we ourselves were beyond doubt free. Not indeed out of hatred for me, nor to place another upon the throne, so much as to inflict pain upon those who had fixed me in the throne of the presiding. At least, with witnesses removed, they claimed this to me sometimes. For they said they could bear neither the old nor the new injuries. But I, like a horse shut in the stables,

^A though worn down by evils and by sickness, 1820 I did not cease to beat the ground within, and I neighed servilely because of the violence of my bonds, desiring pastures and my own solitude. But when those things which I have spoken of began to move me, I broke my bonds, and gladly seized the opportunity 1825 (I would never persuade those who love preeminence—it is evident, though I speak the truth). For the moment was mine, and stepping into the midst, I said these things: “Men, whom God has gathered, so that you might deliberate on something pleasing to God, 1830 let things regarding me be set as a secondary matter (for it matters little, in view of such a great assembly, how my affairs stand, even if we are contending in vain); but raise your minds to something greater. ^A Be united in one, bind yourselves together, at last. 1835 How long shall we be laughed at as unsavory, and, while knowing one thing, be breathing out battle? Give your right hands of communion readily. I myself will become the prophet Jonah. I give myself for the salvation of the ship, 1840 though I chance to be blameless regarding the storm. Having taken us up, cast us out by the turn of the lot. A hospitable whale will receive me from the depths. From this point, begin to be of one mind; proceed toward all things in succession. Let this place 1845 be called [the place of] Enlargement. Thus my own [action] is glorious. If you stop with me, I hold this solely as a penalty, and [the struggle] to fight for thrones. If you think this way, nothing will be difficult.” [alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

^A I was not enthroned with pleasure, and now I depart willingly; my body, in its present state, persuades me to do so. I owe one death; it is in God’s hands. But, O my Trinity, I am concerned for you alone. What eloquent tongue will you have to defend you, if it is not free and full of zeal? 1855 Farewell, and remember my labors. These things I said; they were faltering. I went out, midway between joy and a certain sadness: joy, that I was to receive some rest from my labors; sadness, that I did not know in what state the people would lie. 1860 Who is not torn apart when bereft of his children? I am such, and they know it, and God knows it; if there is not something more hidden than what is plain, the destruction of the young, and reefs, and deep-laid snares—others say these things, but I shall be silent. 1865 For I have no leisure to investigate the tangled evils, as I am occupied with the simplicity of heart from which comes salvation, which is my only concern. Yet this I know: they honored me too quickly, more than is proper, with an easy consent. 1870 Such are the gifts the fatherland bestows upon its friends. ^B Such was the state of these things. But how did I act with the Emperor? Did I bow down? Did I fall at his feet and grasp his right hand? Did I employ any suppliant words? Did I set up other ambassadors from among my friends, 1875 especially from among those in power, to whom I was most dear? Did I pour forth gold, that great sovereign,

Thinking that it is in my interest not to fall from such a seat? Let these things be for others, who are very versatile. ^A I, however, as I was, running toward the purple, 1880 while many were present and observing these things, said: "I also, O King, ask a favor of you, you who are great-hearted and have absolute power. I do not ask you for gold, nor for gleaming tablets, nor for the coverings of the mystic table, 1885 nor to obtain some high ruling dignity for my kin, nor, O excellent one, to stand near you. These are for others, to whom little things are a concern. I, however, judge myself worthy of greater things. Let one thing be given to me: to yield a little to envy. 1890 We desire thrones, but from afar, to revere them. I am weary of being hated by all, even by my friends, ^B by my not being able to look toward anything except God. Demand from them a friendly concord, and let them throw down their arms, at least for the sake of your favor, 1895 if not for the fear of God and of punishment. Set up a trophy of a bloodless battle, as you have stood against the unyielding boldness of the barbarians. And demand this (pointing at the same time to my gray hair, and the sweats which we have poured out for God), 1900 to endure what one suffers for the sake of the world. You know how they seated me on the throne even against my will." The Emperor was applauding these words in the midst of the crowd, and others were applauding, and I receive the favor, 1905 with difficulty, as they say, but I receive it nonetheless. What second thing is being cared for by me in these evils? To persuade everyone to bear these things with a good grace,

^A instead of a throne and empty pride. Revile, rejoice, leap for joy, O wise ones; make a song of my misfortunes 1925 in gatherings, and in banquets, and in the courts. Crow like cocks, as if you were victors; striking your flanks with your elbows, standing tall, and holding your heads high in the midst of the foolish. You have all overcome one who was willing. 1930 If I was willing, O envy!—you rob me even of this praise, boasting that I was cast out; but if I was unwilling, let you be ashamed of your wickedness, you who yesterday placed me on the throne and today are my persecutors. Having escaped these things, what then? I shall stand with 1935 the angels. As for my life, as it is, no one shall harm it, but neither shall it help me. I shall withdraw to God.

METRICAL VERSION

Not daring to think anything obstinate, I— Through love for my own, and anger against the wicked— Fostered, praised, and reconciled with the evil ones 1910 The sanctuary, those from without, and the leaders of the flock, Whatever was old and whatever was recently introduced, Not bearing to see a father torn away from his own, And those of the bishops who were deeply struck by this. For many, when they sensed what plan was being formed, 1915 Fled straightaway like the strike of a lightning bolt, Stopping their ears and striking their hands together, Lest they ever see with their own eyes such a sight, Another man seated upon my thrones. The end of the matter: I stand here a living corpse, 1920 Conquered (what a wonder!) and crowned with a garland, Having God and friends who are full of God, Instead of a throne and vain clamor. Revile, rejoice, leap for joy, O you wise men, And turn my adverse circumstances into a song ^B 1925 In assemblies, in banquets, and in sanctuaries; Sing, as victors, in the manner of cockerels, Striking your ribs with your elbows, standing upright, Lifting your heads in the midst of the senseless. You have all conquered one man who was willing; 1930 If it was by his will, O envy! you rob me Also of this praise, boasting as if I had been cast out; But if against his will, may you be ashamed of these evils, Who placed me on the throne yesterday, and are persecutors today. Having escaped this, what is left? I will stand with the angels. 1935 No one will harm my life as it now stands, But neither will it help. I will withdraw and dwell with God, Instead of empty arrogance and a lofty throne. Exult in your insults; and with joy, O you learned men, Now leap up, and sing of my harsh trials, In gatherings, sanctuaries, and amid your feasts. Sing like victors, in the manner of roosters, And let your elbows strike your flanks, and lift your swollen necks, You who are devoid of the good mind. By one man’s will, the prize has come to you all: If it was by his will, how great is this spite, that you Should snatch away from me what you claim was my rejection; But if I was forced, are you not ashamed of your crime? Yesterday you placed me on the throne, now you drive me out. Henceforth, fleeing this, what shall I do? I shall dwell Among the angels. No one shall henceforth harm my life, Just as it shall not help me. I will gather myself to God alone.

Let tongues flow for me as empty breezes; I have had my fill of them—often struck by reproaches, and often by excessive praises. 1940 I seek to inhabit some wilderness, far from evils, where the divine is sought by the mind alone, and the light hope of things above is the nurse of my old age. But what shall I give to the churches? Tears. For to this God has brought me, 1945 winding my life through many turnings. Or whither will you go? Tell me, Word of God! I pray for that unshaken dwelling, where my Trinity is, and that singular light, ^A by whose dim shadows we are now exalted.

XII. Concerning himself and the bishops. Certainly, perhaps I ought, as one suffering, to bear it—molded by the commandments of Him who suffered—and to control my speech while enduring, so that, if I have sustained a perfect struggle, I might expect a more perfect reward. For the toil of the perfect is perfect, and more perfect his reward; but of him who is not perfect, the reward is also deficient. ^B And 7 that it might not seem as though the wicked prevail in all things, nor that their path is smooth and easy, [alt-version omitted]

ARGUMENT

1 *“Iows μὲν ἐχρῆν*. "This is true," says Tollius; "and in these lines this most holy man suffered something human; he was, to be sure, of the best intention and will, but somewhat too soft in the face of inflicted injuries than he ought to have been, and less temperate against the reproaches and bitterness that ill befit a Christian." But this infirmity of his is to be pardoned for the sake of his other most excellent virtues and merits; and it must be considered how exceedingly difficult it is, when you are born a man, to divest yourself of humanity. Thus Tollius, but see Tom. 1, Preface, where the excessive bitterness of Tollius toward the holy doctor is beaten back.

7 *Ἐλλιπές*. Gregory signifies a docked reward, which can be understood of Purgatory.

XII. CONCERNING HIMSELF AND AGAINST THE BISHOPS

^A With no one to oppose me, I shall leave the end of these things to the final fire, which tests and purifies all things with justice, even if we are hidden here by certain entanglements. I myself shall strike my own with a slight word— 15 Murderers; for those who judge things perversely are murderers, pouring out the blood of innocent souls, of all whom I fashioned and whom I shepherded. But I shall say what I will say, fearing nothing, 20 not even the being insulted, a thing forbidden to all, but to me even more hated. For I shall not fashion my words by name, so as not to seem to prove, ^A to be tested, those things which it is necessary to hide. But neither will I mention all things equally, lest my tongue run too far. 25 For I know many who are even better than the word; but whoever is among the wicked, and beyond the wicked, let him himself be subdued and let present things be tamed. The sword of the word will cut away what is worse. What is this? You will show: if you fight against the word, 30 you will clearly appear as the accuser of yourself. My own state, then, is this: let everyone pelt me; I have long since been braced against stones. Be confident before a lion; the leopard is a gentle beast.

METRICAL VERSION

Dum nullus obstet, exitum illorum quidem Ignis reservabo ultimis ardoribus, Qui cuncta rimat, purgat æquus et omnia, Possimus umbra hic contegi quadam licet. At ipse feriam leniter, qui me necant Necant enim omnes improbe qui judicant, Ausi innocentum sanguinem profundere, Quos nempe nostra finxit et rexit manus. Loquar loquenda, nec timebo ne cadam In probra, factum quod nefas est omnibus, Sed quo videtur nil iniquius mihi. Nec jam malignus ipsa dicam nomina, ^B Ne prava pandam, condenda quæ sunt magis. Imo neque cunctos voce carpam livida, Ne nostra nimium lingua discurrat vaga. Namque scio multos optima dignos nota. Sed qui malos est inter aut supra malos, Ille rapiatur et jugo subdet caput; Verbi secabit ensis id quod pejus est. Quid hoc? Aperies; si meum oppugnes loqui, Clare apparebis ipse te pandens reum. Sic res meæ; me feriat omnis qui volet; Pridem petrarum ferre perdidici plagas. Fidas leoni; pardalis mitis fera.

^A The asp will perhaps flee even you, if it fears. 35 Beware, for my sake, of evil bishops, fearing not at all the dignity of the throne. The high place is for all, but the grace is not for all. Pass by the fleece; look at the wolf. Do not persuade me with words, but with deeds. 40 I hate doctrines to which life is contrary. Praising the colors of a sepulcher, I loathe the inner odor of rotting limbs. How is this? And what is this? How, when you are always voicing better words, do you not also speak well now? 45 It is for one who is suffering to pour out his passion to God, to friends, to parents, to neighbors, to strangers—or, if not that, then to time and to those who will come after in life.

^B But I shall open my discourse a little further. Let no one ever say to those who suffer that their reward is from this life. Whoever thinks this is deceived. All things proceed in night and darkness. For God burns some, and casts others into shadow, until the fire illuminates all these things. One man has drained away a wretched life, 55 groaning, sleepless, dissolving his limbs in tears, suffering on a bed on the ground and with meager food, and in cares of the mind, in divinely inspired Scriptures, and constantly lashing himself within with scourges. What have I omitted? Have I done what is not fitting? 60 Another plucked the delights of the young, played, and here, filled the disease of his belly, ^B [alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

The asp will often flee you as you tremble in fear. Beware of one thing; of not upright bishops, Holding of no account the great ornament of a sacred throne. A height for all, but for all not the grace; Omit the fleece, but carefully look at the wolf. Not by the mouth alone, but by action, persuade me; I reject precepts to which life does not accord. I praise the colors of the tomb, but the foulness Of the body, already putrid within, the mind shudders at. How is this? What is this? Having spoken the best Up to this point, how do you utter what is not good? It is for the hurting to pour out their own grief To God, to companions, to neighbors, to parents, To guests, or at least to future time.

I shall repeat the facts to be recounted, now a little higher. Let no one say that he who labors has his reward here; He who thinks this is deceived. All things are carried on in night and darkness; God burns some, and casts others into the shadows, Until with punishing fire He clarifies all things with light. This man has dragged out his dishonest days in labor. Sleepless and groaning, tiring his limbs with tireless Tears, lying on the ground, fed on poor Food, ever searching the sacred Letters, And ever wearing himself out within with scourges. What has been omitted by me? What have I done that is not decent? Another plucked the bland joys of youth; He sang and he played; he filled the fever of his gullet,

^A he turned loose to all pleasures, having set no bolts upon his senses, like a young colt without a bridle. Then, misfortunes ran upon him—no, not misfortunes; for nothing earthly touches those who are wise, as the many think, by whom even the appearance of being wise is destroyed and deemed ruinous. But he who runs well in all things, and runs well in this too, is considered to be the most excellent in virtue; ^B and he himself is witness to this discourse, saying these things: "I was sitting above those things that are seen, and mingling my mind only with those things that are understood, having cast away glory, possessions, hopes, and speeches; counting it a delight to be without delights, and sweetening my life with meager bread, free from insolence (for one must expect everything, even if one be wise), when someone, contrary to hope, having torn me away from these goods, led me abroad—who that person is, I cannot say. Was it the divine Spirit, or my own sins, that I might pay the penalty for the honor I had received? But the cause was manifest: a gathering of shepherds and an orthodox people, though not yet numerous, just recently looking a little toward the rays of the sun, so that one might speak with boldness, ^C and take a little breath from the evils surrounding them, and from the chattering tongues and multifaceted error, by which they were failing, having no one to provide shelter—just as a certain sweet rose in the midst of brambles, or some black berry in an untimely cluster. So, then, I came as a pious guest, won over by oaths and various entreaties,

^A to oppose those who are exceedingly arrogant. Since I arrived, having left the Cappadocian land, which seems to all to be the bulwark of the faith, 95 not seeking a people, nor anything of necessity—these are the fabrications of enemies, lying words, the veils of envy, discovered ineptly—I wish to ask you for the rest; for you are the witnesses of my labors. 100 What have I said or done, odd, or grievous, or causing harm, during this third year? Except for this one thing: I spared the wicked, from whom, being stoned at my first entry, I remained steadfast. For it was more pious 105 for me, having suffered, to bear the things of Christ in this way. ^A You see what the poor offer to God. And let this be turned into a charge, if it seems fit. A moth, one said, of the bones, an incisive mind. This I have made known by my deeds. 110 My brazen body, worn down by cares, has already bowed toward the earth: I have nothing else to give, owing more, even if I should offer the possessions of all. What might one suffer who is joined to a frail friend? But I must return to the argument from the beginning. 115 I was called, I established a people in the midst of wolves, I watered a thirsty flock with my words, I sowed faith taking root in God, I caused the light of the Trinity to shine for those who were previously in darkness. I was a certain milky sap, a remedy.

120 By the violence of persuasion; and some I had already bound, others were near, and others were about to be so immediately. And the spirit of all was inclined, which before was seething, and love was now tempered by the word. Hope was in everything, and a certain moderate inclination. 125 This, the city of happy Rome knows, and I say especially the first rank of those who deemed me worthy of some discourse, among whom it is more, and to have a small amount of glory, than to bear the price of anything precious among others; 130 for they are so much better than all! These held me in regard even when I was present, and now that I am absent, they blame the wicked. ^A For I had nothing more than this, nor did I myself ask for anything. O city, city, 135 that I may cry out even something also tragic. But my noble and good fellow-pastors, consumed by envy (for you know the Thrasonides; for a rustic character does not bear learning), and taking my weakness, child of my labors, 140 which they ought to have revered—they who had labored even a little for God—and also not desiring the power of so great a throne, as the world was rent in the middle of battle. Having taken these things therefore, with the impulse of the demon, 145 the dearest ones sent me away from there, most gladly.

[alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

Living persuasion. And I had already bound some; others were drawing closer, and those would soon be here. The spirit of all, before seething, was yielding; and now words had conciliated love to themselves; the hope of the whole was but a light inclination. Rome, blessed city, knew this, and I say, the first rank of her noble ones, which by chance held me in some place, where it is better to obtain a small degree of praise than to enjoy first honor among others; by so much are these judges superior to the rest! These cherished me when I was present, and now, because I am absent, they turn it into a charge of evils. ^B For they could give no more than this, nor did I seek anything. O city, O city! That I myself might say something in a tragic manner. But my noble and upright colleagues, bursting with envy (you know also the Thrasonides, for a rustic character cannot bear learning), and sustained by my weakness, child of my labors— the infirmity which ought to have been cherished by those men who had done even a little for God; and accusing me that the power of the throne did not please me, while the world was broken for battle; taking these things, therefore, with the aid of the demon, the best of men gladly expelled me from here.

^A As if throwing a burden from an overladen ship; for I was a weight upon the wicked, knowing what was right. Afterward, they raise their hands to God as if pure and holy, and they will send gifts of expiation from a clear conscience, 150 and they will sanctify the people with mystical words—those who expelled me from here, out of wickedness, though I was not much unwilling. For it was a great disgrace to be counted among these petty hucksters of the faith, some of whom are the descendants of tax-collectors, 155 whose only thought was to falsify records, while others came from the tables and the statues that are there, others from the plow, scorched by the sun, others from the mattock and the hoe—laboring all day long—while others left the steering-oar or the army, 160 breathing the bilge-water, or having bodies branded with scars. They have appeared as governors of the people and commanders of armies, giving way not even a little. Others, not yet fully washed in their flesh of the soot of the fiery arts, 165 are fit to be whipped and put to the mill-stone; before they even pay their price to their masters, if they find some small respite from their labors, they immediately run wild, and by stealing away some of the populace, or by persuasion, or by tyrannical force, 170 they run upward like dung-beetles toward the sky, turning the sphere—not one made of dung anymore, nor looking downward to the earth as before—and they suppose themselves to hold the power of those on high.

METRICAL VERSION

As if throwing a burden from an overladen ship: For I was a weight upon the wicked, well knowing it. These men afterward, as if pure, lift their hands to God, And religiously offer pious gifts of expiation, And will consecrate the people with mystical words, Who wickedly expelled me from here as an exile, Though not entirely against my will. For nothing is more shameful Than to be present with an iniquitous choir of faith-hucksters. Of these, some are descendants of those who collect tributes, Having nothing in mind but to write down falsehoods; They had come from the figures and tables; Some from the plows, scorched by the torch of the sun, Some from the mattock or the untiring spade; There are those who left behind ships or battles, Smelling of the bilge, or fouled with limbs of scars, Who seem prepared to yield to no leader of the army or the populace, Because of the insolence of their minds; Not yet washed of the soot of fiery arts From their bodies, completely soiled, Like men fit for the lash and the mill-stone, Who, not having yet rendered the debt, as is fitting, to their masters, If any leisure is by chance granted from their labor, Run wild, and capturing men of the common folk By craft, persuasion, or tyranny, Fly upward, and like hornets they seek the sky, No longer rolling the sphere from the mud, Nor with head cast down to the ground as before, They judge themselves to hold the principality of heaven.

^A Babbling nonsense, and not even knowing how to count their own feet or hands; yet are these things not the very worst, and are they not unworthy of a bishopric, my good sir? Do not think so anciently that you judge such a great matter poorly, even if the humble state pleases me greatly. 180 For the episcopacy is not a bad thing. It is necessary in every way that someone from among the best be chosen; I choose the first—if not that, at least not the last. If any account is to be made of my opinion, especially in this current storm of itchy tongues, 185 and concerning the greatest cities and assemblies—where there is great profit if they remain secure, and most complete ruin if they do not remain so—for this reason, good men must be chosen by you. ^B For hardly might someone of middling character obtain this, 190 even if he should struggle vehemently to surpass the good. To think in this way is the mark of a judge most remote from falsehood. But the tax-gatherers and fishermen will come to me as Evangelists—men poor in discourse, who ensnared the world with simple speech, 195 and captured the wise within their nets, that the miracle of the Word might be all the greater. For this is a ready thing for the many to say, to whom my reply is brief and very clear. Give me the faith of one of the apostles, 200 one who is without coin, having no wallet hung about him, no staff, half-naked, and, as it were, without sandals, living for the day, rich only in hope, and not seeking the praise of religion through superficial pleasantry, ^C nor… [alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

Uttering nonsense, and not even skilled in counting their own feet or hands. These are not crooked, good man, nor unworthy of bishops? Let not your mind grow so old that we cast a poor vote regarding this noble rank, even though a very humble state is pleasing to me. The dignity of a bishop is not a bad thing; but since the task is to choose from among the best, I choose the first, or at the very least, not the last. If our mind is worth anything, now especially, amidst the tides of garrulous loquacity, and of great cities and assemblies—where, if they stand secure, there is much gain, but if they do not stand, the damage becomes grave—hence, let upright men always be chosen by you. ^D A man who is merely middling will hardly obtain it, although he may struggle greatly to surpass the good: to reflect on these things marks the true judge. But I shall have as my witnesses the money-hunters or fishermen, the Evangelists, and those poor in spirit, who captured the world with simple speech, and took the wise with their own nets, so that the miracle of the Word might be clearer from this. This, of course, is a thing easy to say for many, to whom there is at the same time a clear and brief response. Let there be given to me, I pray, the faith of an apostle; let there be given a man poor in coin, without a hanging wallet, without a staff, half-naked, as one destitute of sandals; let him draw out his life for the day; rich in hope alone; not seeking...

that flattery should seem more powerful, ^A nor that he should busy himself with the words of others. Let one be of such a sort, and I will accept everything—though he be speechless, ignoble, of base birth, a cattle-driver. For one’s manner of life is the covering for one’s wickedness. ^B Let one be of such a sort, and you may fish for frogs; 210 then we shall entrust you to the choirs of angels. Therefore, grant me one thing: do you cast out demons? Do you cleanse the leper, or raise the dead from the tomb? And might the paralyzed man receive a knitting together of his limbs through you? Lay your hand upon the sufferer, and let the disease cease. 215 Thus will you persuade me to despise learning. But if, when a thing is composed of two parts, one laudable and the other blameworthy, you recount the former, but willingly pass over the latter, ^D you are craftily establishing a comparison. 220 Matthew was a tax collector, but venerable—not as a tax collector, but as one filled with the Spirit. Peter was the chief of the disciples, but he was Peter—not as a fisherman, but because he was full of zeal. My own manner of life persuades me to honor even the net. 225 But I turn away from you, even if you bring some of these solemn things; this is the snare and the trap. You are like a painter who imitates beautiful forms only in leprous spots and gashes. Either paint the whole beauty, or leave the whole thing aside.

^C And tell me this: how can you call those men uninstructed whose words and writings are of such a kind that we, who have been nourished in letters from our youth, find it a labor even to understand a slight error in them? In their writings, there is such great eloquence and effort that all things are full of the fruits of every tongue and of a mind more learned, bearing the height of interpretations! 235 Whence is it that kings, and cities, and assemblies, accusing their own, and exercising correction in speech, 240 before tribunals and in the midst of theaters, were able to persuade and, by speaking freely, to convict the wise, the jurists, and the Greeks puffed up with pride, while they themselves spoke before the people, being opportune and eloquent—if they had not been participants in that doctrine which you deny them?

245 Perhaps you will say, "It was done by the gift ^D of the Spirit," speaking truly. But look at what follows from this. Do you not have a share in the Spirit? And yet you take pride in this very thing above all else. How, then, do you begrudge the Word to those who seek it? But surely you attribute this in vain to the nature of the Spirit and to the just: to the one, that he should breathe the word; to the others, that they should receive it by inspiration, whereby they have appeared wise. Thus you are inevitably caught in your own words, you who willingly and solely speak 255 of things which it were better not to utter, but to keep within. I know the spirit of the adversaries to be speechless; and it is better for that to be silent than to speak wickedly. ^A If they did not share in the Word, of which you will not grant them a portion? 255 These things which it were better not to speak, but to keep within. 256 I know the spirit of the adversaries to be speechless; and it is better for that to be silent than to speak wickedly. [alt-version omitted]

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

^A Loose, O Word of God, the tongue of those who speak things that are just; but weigh down the tongue of those who breathe out the hissings of asps, and from within send forth the fratricidal poison. So much for them. But what sort of account could a simple person give? Yet, as the truth stands, I shall declare in brief what is better to think. 265 For there were once, surely there were, those who were learned, if anyone ever was, yet not learned in that altogether splendid eloquence. For the matter stands thus: all language is for us twofold, diction and thought; the former is like an outer garment, the latter is the body clothed within. 270 And for some, both are fair, while for others only one; or again, [it is] base, as learning or nature may be. ^A For us, there is not much concern for the outward, in whatever state it may be; but for that which is within, there is very much. For in the mind is our salvation, 275 provided it be spoken forth and made manifest. For what profit is there in a fountain that is blocked up? What is the use of a sunbeam that a cloud hides? Such is a wise mind if it remains silent; just as the beauty of a rose, which the calyx covers 280 [and] which is not comely, yet it shows forth its delight when, ruptured by the breezes, it reveals its offspring to be seen. But if beauty were always covered over, there would not be any grace of the dear spring for anyone. We seek nothing more than to speak in such a way, 285 as those who are thought to be simple in their speech.

[alt-version omitted]

If not, then set forth the illuminations of their minds. ^A For I wish to receive some portion of your radiance. If, indeed, the writings that have been composed are nothing, in what way was I playing for so much time, 290 or how was I counting the sand of the sea in vain, joining nights to days in my labors, so that some teaching might come forth into the wrinkles? But if they are—even as they are—well written, do not give the labors of the righteous to the spiders. 295 Walk on foot for me in speech; speak like a rustic. I will not make any dispute; I know how to walk low as well. A simple table is often dearer to me than one prepared by the hands of cooks. And it is the same with dress; for seemly beauty 300 is not what hands write, but what nature possesses. Let the mind rise, and that will be enough for us. We will give all that is elegant to those who want it. Do not weave for me the complications of Sextus, nor of Pyrrho; let Chrysippus be gone, and let the Stagirite be far away. 305 And do not cherish the fluency of Plato. Cast away the beauty of those whose doctrines you reject. Philosophize in the simplicity of speech; you will please us, even if you speak without schooling. Teach us as you wish, but teach: 310 what my Trinity is, how God is unified and cut again, one worship, one nature, Monad and Trinity; and what the nature of the angels is, and of the twofold world, and of just providence.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

Even if many things seem unjust to most people: 315 What is the reason for the soul and body, of the first and second laws, and what the incarnation of Him who is far beyond all [things] that are understood; and the mixing of unequal things into one glory, death toward resurrection, heaven again, 320 and what is the reason for resurrection and judgment, or what is the life for the just, and what for the sinners; how all things flow, tell me, and where they stand. If the Spirit has clearly revealed any of these to you, either the whole, or moderately, or a little, 325 as much as the cleansing of your mind has been able to contain, do not deprive me; but if you are entirely blind, ^A why do you lead by the hand, though you do not see? O the darkness of those using a teacher who does not see, 330 that they might fall together into the pit of ignorance! These, then, are such; but those others are a lesser evil. For ignorance is indeed an evil, but a lesser evil. What, then, could one say if we make mention of the wicked? For there are, there are some who are more wretched, miserable, hateful gambles of life, 335 ambivalent in faith, honoring the laws of the times, not the laws of God, Euripi of words, flowing back and forth, or like the bending of branches, flatterers of women, pleasant poisons, lions to the small, but in turn dogs to those who rule,

314 Even if many things seem unjust... See above book 1, sect. 1, poem 6, verse 20, etc. 328 To one who does not see. Mss. [read] of those who do not see. 334 Gambles of life. The casting of dice in this life: which are very varied and inconstant, owing to their volatility, not unlike the mistress fortune. Martial in *Apophoreta*: "When no die has stood for you with the same face." See below poem 32, verses 57 and 58. 335 Ambivalent. [That is,] ambiguous. He speaks of the bishops who followed now the party of the Arians, now the party of the Catholics, according to the exigency of the times. Thus the previous poem, verse 708, etc., introduces them saying: We serve the times and the desires of the peoples, always offering the ship to the blowing wind.

336 Euripi. A "Euripus" man is a fickle man, unequal in faith and conduct. 337 Bending of branches. [That is,] those who are moved as easily by every fortune as branches are by the winds. Thus below, poem 17, verse 19: Bending with the times, a reed greatly agitated by the winds. 339 Lions to the small. Thus the following poem, verse 81: Flatterers of the strong are lowly, and for the lowly they are lions.

METRICAL VERSION

Just, though many things may seem unjust; what the mind is, and what the body, what the ancient law and what the more recent [law], and what the incarnation of God who far exceeds all created things: how disparate things come together into one beauty, death and resurrected life, and again the sky; which of the dead will be raised for judgment, what life awaits the just, [and] what the wicked: how all things consist, I pray, or how they flow: if the Spirit has revealed any of these to you, much or a little, or moderately, as it has been granted to the purity of the mind to attain, do not deprive me. But if in truth you are blind, ^B why do you lead by the hand while not seeing? O the darkness of those who wrongly use a teacher who does not see, so that they may fall together into the pit of ignorance! Such are they. But those others are certainly a lesser evil: although to be ignorant is an evil, it is a lesser evil. What, if mention be made of evil men? For there are, there are certain wicked men, [who are] excessively impure trifles of the age, uncertain in faith, honoring the laws of the times, but not the precepts of God, [men of] Euripus-like doctrine, ever-wavering waves, [men of] ever-wandering twists of vines, lovers of women, sweet poisons, to the small now lions, now dogs.

340 Keen-scented hunters of every table, who wear down the doors of the powerful, not the wise, valuing those things that gain favor rather than what is profitable, so that they may make their neighbors evil too. Shall I speak of something wise regarding these men, if you permit? 345 One boasts of nobility, another of eloquence, one of wealth, and another of his lineage. But those who have nothing from which they might appear to be someone, make themselves famous through wickedness. And this is a wise thing, too: for, being ignorant of discourse, 350 they have equally bound the tongues of those who speak better than themselves. And if there were some strife between eyes and hands, even these you would have cut off from us, O wise men! ^A Is this not a manifest insult? Is it not a clear injury? Who will endure these things? O the mystery! 355 Now, almost throughout the whole world, although we have received salvation from God, how very much we use unworthy leaders! I shall cry out things that are not false, though they are not very pleasant. A certain scene (woe is me!) is being played out, all too showy— 360 now the masks, and the faces later on. It is shameful to say it, but I will speak of it as it is. Appointed to be teachers of the good, we are the workshop of all evils, crying out in silence, even if we seem not to speak: 365 • "Let wickedness hold the first place; let no one labor." [alt-version omitted]

SECTION I. POEMS ABOUT HIMSELF

Be wicked; this is the most concise way, And better; for action stands as law. For with difficulty might someone, by the force of teachers, Incline toward the better; but if he has a pattern 570 That is base, he is caught—a stream running down a slope. The reason: they say that with the rays of the sun The eagle most wisely tests the gaze of its nestlings; From these, whatever is spurious and whatever is not is known; And it casts out the former, but is the parent of the latter. 375 But we easily seat anyone, If only they wish it, as leaders of the people, Heeding nothing of their new deeds or of their old, Neither action, nor word, nor company, Not even enough to recognize the ring of a coin, 380 Nor those proved by the burning of time, ^A But from the first appearing as worthy of thrones. For if we know this, that power Makes the one who is chosen worse, as for the most part it does, Who, being of sound mind, would put forward one whom he does not know? 385 And if it is such a great task to govern my own Soul alone amidst the billows of life, How will you give to any given person the necks of so great a people, Unless you have the desire to sink the ship? Whence it is that precious stones are difficult to acquire, 590 And the earth does not bear its aromatics in every place; The horse, the very worst, is plentiful in the middle, While the noble ones are nurtured by the houses of the rich; Yet the leader is easily found, Having labored for nothing, recent in his worthiness? 395 O the rapid turning about of character!

METRICAL VERSION

Be perverse; this way is shorter And better; for deeds themselves take the place of law. For scarcely with the assistance of an instructor does anyone verge toward the good; If he falls into an evil pattern, he is captured, And like a stream he rushes headlong. This is the cause. They say that with the brilliant rays of the sun The eagle prudently tests the eyes of its offspring, So that it may recognize what is true therein, or what is spurious: It repels the latter, and is the parent of the former. But we easily place anyone upon a fearful throne, Provided only that they themselves wish it, as rulers, Not weighing what is recent, or what is ancient, Not their words, not their deeds, nor their manner of living, Nor the means by which the ring of a coin might be known. Not yet proved by the fire of time, we immediately ^B Believe them worthy of the episcopal seat. If a cautious mind were to think that power Often goes toward the worse when placed upon a throne, What sane person would call an unknown man by [his] vote? If it is such a great labor to govern my own mind Amidst the waves of this threatening age, Who would give the rule of the multitude to just anyone, Unless you wish the ship to be overwhelmed beneath the waves? Why, since precious stones do not shine everywhere, Since not every field produces incense, Since all things teem with most base horses, And noble ones are nurtured only by great houses, Does the hand find a prelate with no labor, Not perfected by sacred skill, but for the duty Immediately prepared? O more rapid conversion!

^A The throwing of dice; for in the dice are the things of God: A comic mask, suddenly imposed Upon one of the most common and insignificant men, Has appeared to us as this new devotee of piety. 400 Great indeed is the grace of the Spirit, If even Saul is held most dear among the prophets. Yesterday you were in the midst of mimes and theaters (Let others inquire into what happened after the theaters), Now you yourself are a strange spectacle to us. 405 Lately a lover of horses, and sending dust to God, As another would send prayers or pious thoughts. The cause of this is that some charioteer fell, Or some horse did not carry off the prizes in the race: The light air of the horses beat against you, 410 Like one who had fallen from his senses and was maddened; But now you are somewhat composed, and looking only at modesty, Unless perhaps, escaping unnoticed, you run back to your old ways, As a branch, I think, bent aside and escaping the hand That directs it, runs back to its own form. 415 Yesterday, as an orator, you were selling judgments, Turning the laws upside down and inside out, By which you destroyed those whom justice kept safe, Using a just measure for the one who gave more; But now you are a judge to me, and all of a sudden a kind of Daniel. 420 Yesterday you were judging for me with a naked sword, And making the tribunal a legitimate den of thieves, Stealing, playing the tyrant, and above all, the laws— How mild you are to me today! Not even a garment-

- ^A you have taken and hold all by force? In the end, playing the tyrant even over the mysteries of God, 440 which perhaps it was not even right for those who were not long since well-prepared to look upon? Has the laver, or the purification, changed you? Wait; let it be seen; and why should we begrudge you? The gain is mine; only give something to time; 445 I ask of you a small delay of your desire. But if, having been cleansed today by the gift of God, you spout the same filth through sloth, with the fountain remaining from which the former evils flow (for the washing is a purification not of character itself, 450 but of the growths that have sprouted from character), know this clearly: your salvation is mournful.

^A 425 Yesterday you were moving among effeminate dancers, And you were a herald of weddings among Lydian women, Turning out songs, and priding yourself on drinking bouts; Now you are a teacher of virgins and married women. How suspected your virtue is from your former character! 430 Yesterday Simon Magus; today Simon Peter. Alas for the speed! Alas, in place of a fox, a lion! But tell me, good sir, you who were an exactor of taxes, Or who perhaps left behind some military rank— From where, being a pauper, did you surpass Cyrus 435 The Mede, or Croesus, or Midas in resources, Possessing a house filled with tears, Did you pass into the sanctuary, and hold a throne, ^B And then keep everything occupied by force? In the end, you even play the tyrant over the mysteries of God, 440 Which perhaps it was not even right to dare to cast eyes upon For those who had not been long since well-prepared? Has the laver, or purification, changed you? Wait; let it be shown; and why should we begrudge you? The gain is mine; only give something to time; 445 I ask of you a small delay of the desire. But if, having been cleansed today by the gift of God, You gush forth the same mud through sloth, With the fountain remaining, from which former evils flow (For the washing is a purification, not of the habits themselves, 450 But of the growths that have sprouted from the habits), Know this clearly: your salvation is mournful.

[alt-version omitted]

^A For formerly, indeed, there were favorable hopes; now, not even these. There is one gift of the one God. Let someone be not evil; will this suffice? 455 And we cherish the wax, which, having smoothed away the former shapes, is rewritten with good ones. Become a Zacchaeus; to those who have been wronged, return not more, but the sum itself, if it pleases you; for you cannot bear what the law prescribes. 460 And to the poor, contribute as much as you wish; and then you will worthily entertain Christ. But if, while the spoils remain within, you think yourself free by giving a little to the poor, the Divine is sold to us, if it is permissible to say so. 465 For how is it just that my injury should be unredeemed, while for you the grace has such power that you do not pay the penalty for your daring deeds? Do you have grace? Then be far removed from what belongs to others; thus the purification is complete. 470 If, however, when you were in the midst of receiving grace, you held what was not yours and did not wash everything away, I hesitate to say what follows, but I believe it is clear to everyone. Seek grace; for now I know you to be a debtor, ^B even if the throne carries you very high. 475 For the washing is a blotting out of the things we have sinned, not of those we do sin. Therefore, cleanse yourself entirely, but now do not laugh, being yourself stained while cleansing others; unless this privilege from God is granted to you alone.

^A Just as words written by a king's hand for favor, 480 So that you might even be praised for your tyranny; But if the laver does not wash away entirely Those who, as I have said, have received the grace (For no one ever cheats God by clever tricks, 485 Who binds even the wise to those more wise), Who could cleanse those who, after their anointing, Have again been stained in the depth of the mire, And have insulted the worth of the image from above With the forms of creeping things or wild beasts, 490 From which we are fashioned by imitating what we desire? For another Maker is established by this way of life, Whom it is difficult to cast off and throw far away. For there is no second cleansing. ^A I have been born Once, and then reborn to God; 495 Perhaps at last I shall be fashioned into some other Form, having been cleansed by the fire that loves mankind. Now, however, I know no remedy other than tears, From which, indeed, healing comes with difficulty, Yet the scars remain, and in my view, 500 They are accusers of the grievous wounds of the past. But if there is someone who even more trusts in God, That is my gain; let him only persuade me by his arguments. Perhaps some might say that the hands of the bishops, And the public proclamation, and some grace of the laver, 505 And the voices which we utter as unworthy, amidst it all, Giving the cleansing to the bowing of the head, And to the Spirit that indeed exercised tyranny,

^A by the judgment of just and wise bishops; Whom I deem more prone to take on staining, 510 Than to impart of their own splendor. For the participation of evil is easier than of good, As you shall know from there, how true the word is. For if flesh that is sanctified should touch Drink, Micah says, or some kind of food, 515 It shall not cleanse that which it happens to touch; But from things unclean, clean things shall be defiled. The divine Paul, clearly persuaded of these things, In the instructions he gives Timothy in his Epistle, Lays down a law, not to lay hands 520 Hastily upon another, nor to share in his ways; For the weight of our own evils is enough for us.

^A But let there be a laver, if you wish, and this too for you. Who will guarantee the character, without an interval of time, Showing that grace has cleansed even the depths, 525 And not just the surface, like a dye from an herb Is that brightness, the beauty of which is easily washed away? But let this too be a complete purification; The rank has changed you: I behold an angel. This, then, the believer, and he who respects my laws, 530 Will willingly grant, yielding to the dogma. But he who is outside knows nothing, save for good reputation, To set a boundary for the good of the faith; He who counts not even one of his own faults, But stands as a bitter accuser of yours; 535 How, tell me, shall we persuade such a one to accept this opinion,

^A or change from the life we gave him before? How shall we curb his tongue, or with what words? For it is not in accord with my laws to despise this; for they polish the president on every side, like some statue, 540 so that the people may receive no injury. And this I will let pass, that grace might prevail over opinion. All admire you, nor does Momus himself dare to touch you. You are next to Elijah, if your reasoning is excellent. How then do you sit in a high place, being ignorant and unskilled 545 in the things which are labored over and desired by many? I am amazed, if indeed you desire them! For pride does not even allow one to learn, persuading one that they easily possess those things which they lack. ^A But not this: but how will you escape this, 550 to appear at once both student and teacher, whetting one who whets, as swine whet their teeth, when it is fitting to teach after having learned the laws? What is such great confusion of the matter? Whence does doctrine become so cheap? 555 For no boxer, who has not first extended his hand, or considered a timely stance, nor any runner in the stadium, without having first exercised his feet. And who, being in his right mind, has ever, on the very same day, fashioned pipes, practiced them, and competed? 560 And who was ever heard to be an excellent painter, without having mixed many varieties of colors?

Who, I ask, has ever turned rhetor or physician before having endured many orations or maladies? For arts would be of little value 565 if possession were granted simply by the desire for it. Yet for a presiding bishop, it is enough to be commanded to be good and upright at once: and this is that very proverb: “No sooner said than done.” ^A Christ commands, and the created thing stands ready. 570 But I shall pass over this. Yet you, when you see below this servant of God remaining, why do you raise your neck high and covet the power of the throne? Do you not shudder and tremble in your throne, for fear that you might be driving oxen better than the ox-driver? 575 For consider it thus, if you have the leisure to look: ^B This man lies upon the ground, eaten away by dust, and has wasted his flesh through vigils, through psalmody, and through standing night and day, and through the flight of his mind from the heaviness of the body towards the heights. 580 For why must one bring the whole body to the grave, to be a more abundant fodder for the worms that it itself generates and feeds? He has washed away his stains with fountains of tears, if he had even a small spot left upon him 585—as anyone, even if he be wise, is susceptible to, as he wallows in the mire of life—and he has been marked by the honorable stamps of flesh hardened by prayer and by many labors, through which the ancient taste has worn me down, turned back into the earth, my humble mother.

590 Through cold, hunger, and tight, tattered rags, desiring to take on the clothing of immortality, and, with meager food, he tamed the insolence of the belly, remembering death every day. For he knows no other food as the food of angels, except God. 595 This man is now poor, though he was once very wealthy; but he loved emptying himself, and he sails lightly, having cast his burden upon the poor, not into the deep. This man, fleeing cities and the roar of the crowd, and the turmoil that churns everything in between, 600 joined the beauty of his mind to God, being alone and communing only with the Divine. This man enclosed his beautiful body (for how would that which is of the best not be beautiful?) ^A in pearls, with iron chains, a hidden ornament, 605 binding himself, though guilty of no crime, so that being free, he might never act insolently, and binding the wandering of the senses within himself. To him the Spirit revealed the depths of the letter, having loosened what was sealed in the minds of the many. 610 Such ornaments are these, and you, too, tell me of yours: A house, a wanton wife, the training of children, possessions, stewards, agents, outcries, lawsuits, everything full of cares and business. A table swelling with famous things 615 through the plottings of cooks and mixtures of drinks, [alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

^A of those things which the fruits of land and sea bring into the intestines (By which the mind is submerged, and has no breadth), 615 perfumes, laughter, and choral gatherings of psalms, for which the sound of cymbals and feet is required.

620 And others, filled with the innate madness of lust, sickly, swollen, and shining for the sake of women, recently grooms—to speak with moderation—not yet having opened the marriage chambers, or even still living with their unmarried loves, 625 before their cheeks have been covered with a masculine ornament or hair, being entirely fresh, young in body, but yet younger in character, or even full of old days, but filled with evils 630 since they become overseers of children who are not of the flesh, whom the Spirit, void of flesh, brings forth. ^B Learning to honor the passions from which they themselves have suffered, advocates for one another in the evils of others, granting authority just as they receive it. 635 These men are thus; and perhaps they might even become better were they not hindered by thrones. For holding power makes the foolish man worse. But the one who is temperate stands dishonored, 640 looking down, gazing only upon God, loving the place of a disciple—of whom this man who is now a master is perhaps not even a worthy disciple—if indeed power is not distinguished by rank. 642 Such strength does the envious one have among us! 643 Thus he devises with well-aimed wickedness, 644 when he wishes to strike a people or a city, 645 in addition to the temptations which he brings upon each one, and a short way...

[alt-version omitted]

^A he establishes the leader of wickedness: ^B then bronze, dressed in gold, or the transfiguration of a chameleon’s skin, a beard, a gloomy character, the bending of the neck, 650 a short voice, faithfully fashioned, a slow gait, wise in every respect except in mind, the first among the foremost of the things now thought beautiful, a venerable ephod, or the double cloak of Samuel, a humble bed, not at all constrained, 655 binding the head with a maiden’s linen ornament and wrapping it in a sack, ^A displaying before one's face the signs of prayer. How shall I not utter some word that is strange to me? I could not bear it, nor refrain from some anger. 660 Stop, either your luxury, or your hair. Why do you seek to possess both what is yours and what is not yours? Let the boundaries of the Mysians and Phrygians be separate. Let the streams of Marah and Siloam be separate. For the former are not even to be tasted, while the latter, 665 when moved by an angel, formerly cured diseases. You plant a double vineyard, and you sow double seeds; and your garment is woven of two materials; you place under a single yoke things that cannot be yoked together. But this was forbidden, if you know it, by the Law.

METRICAL VERSION

^B He establishes the leader of wickedness: Then bronze, disguised, gleams with gold, Or the uncertain color of a chameleon; Then a beard, a sad face, an inclined head, A submissive voice, faithfully constructed by art, A slow step, wise in everything except for the mind, The first thing which now shines among the foremost goods: A venerable ephod, the sacred toga of Samuel, A humble bed, not dressed in every part; Crown your head with the light linen of maidens, And compose your head in the manner of a coarse sack, Displaying the signs of prayer upon your countenance.

^B Why should I not speak a word, although it is insolent to me? I can bear neither these things nor the mockery Of anger. Either cast off your luxury or your hair. Why do you wish to have what is yours, and what is not yours? The boundaries of the Phrygians and Mysians are far apart; The streams of Marah or Siloam are different. The former are surely not to be tasted; but while those were previously Moved by an angel, the pain departed. You plant a double vineyard; you sow double Seed; and your tunic is fashioned of two materials. You bind to a single yoke things that are not to be coupled. By the law, which abhors a double-dealing disposition,

^A 670 the woven thing turns away. One is the adornment of women, another of men; one the height of the jackdaws, another of eagles. It is disgraceful for things of great stature to be imitated in things very small; for it is petty. Let the magicians of Pharaoh ^B 675 clearly persuade you, if you know their history. If you are eager to be numbered among the wise, do not transform the rod for my sake into a serpent only; I seek all things, and that you be a great Aaron. But if you have been enrolled with the magicians of the Egyptians, 680 if it is a good thing, practice the whole of it at once. No envy will be yours for a noble imitation; but if it is base, stand outside; spare what is mine; for know that it is mine, even if you simulate it skillfully. ^C You despoil me even of my one ewe lamb. 685 The form is adulterated. Who will declare it to Nathan? I shall rend the dark tunic, running up, if ever I might take hold of it; for among you, at times, you luxuriate in these things, as if they were inferior foods, when you suffer a satiety of dainties in esteemed ^D 690 things. Rend also you something of mine, if you might take hold of anything softer and for me illegitimate. What could be more just than this? Let Laban have the white ones; but the marked ones belong to the shepherd who has labored much, 695 having frozen by night and been scorched by the sun by day. The tempering of one's disposition is indeed the most shameful of shameful things; yet guard it, and you shall have me as one who praises you.

POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

Now what is this, and to what is it comparable? May one not even sport with a pleasant conceit 700 Amidst serious things? There is room for laughter in tears. The story places a cat inside the nuptial chamber; For it appeared as a bride, arrayed in bridal fashion; There were dowries, cheers, laughter, it was a brilliant wedding. But as she caught sight of a mouse running through the midst, 705 A bride she was, but a cat; for having darted At the sight, she had a meal, not a wedding. Such is every spurious teacher. For that which is innate is not quickly changed. Yet such a person is dexterous in affairs, 710 One whom you do not praise, a perfect master ^A Of old and new movements. But the pious man is useful only to himself. Who says these things? How perverse he is! For there is no one who lives for himself alone, 715 Neither of the good, nor yet of the worse. But just as this air, wherever it may have been dragged, Becomes a sharer in fragrance or in stench, So we very quickly become like our neighbors, To the good less so, but to the bad altogether. 720 For wickedness is more easily imitated. But if such an one should happen to be our leader, And if he is most base and full of wickedness, This is that which even now we see: the bramble ruling over the trees.

[alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

What is this now, or what is the comparison? It is permitted here to intermingle a pleasing fable with serious matters: There is a place for laughter, even in tears. Into the nuptial bed is placed, under a disguise, A cat bearing the form and array of a bride; There are cheers, laughter, gifts; the weddings are splendid. But when a mouse happens to run through the house, The bride, who is in fact a cat, immediately Springs upon the prey, and has a meal, not a wedding. Such appears every spurious teacher. That which grows innate is changed with difficulty. But he whom you do not praise is agile in his dealings, And skilled, a leader who directs ^B Old movements and new ways. Another is holy, but useful only to himself. Who says such things? How wicked! How perfidious! For there is no one who lives solely for himself, Whether he be among the good or among the depraved. But just as this air, whatever it has drawn in, Becomes a participant in either stench or fragrance, So we are quickly fashioned by the characters of those near us, Less so by the good, but for the most part by the evil. For we are turned more toward the likeness of harm. If such a one be placed as a leader over the flock, He who is filled with the worst of sins, It is a bramble governing the other trees;

But if a brave man be present, again with a pillar of fire 725 the great Israel marches forth toward the land of hope to which we all hasten. Even if he be one not versed in public gatherings or in the marketplace, a Proteus, a sophist skilled in the thieving of forms, or a Melampus, or some other unstable person 730 easily fashioning himself for all things, according to the sudden changes of events—why, tell me, do you call this man useless, to whom we might look and become better? Or how do you call the other an excellent and noble leader, toward whom you look and spit upon my own?

Excessive prating is truly odious to the wise, but frank speech is better suited for persuasion. Be that man yourself, as your mind suggests; I will be here. Or does that man seem to you the most excellent of painters 740 who does not draw living figures with simple colors, like a certain Zeuxis, or Polycletus, or Euphranor, but one who, with florid and altogether shadowy dyes, fashions lifeless bodies, Callimachus and Calais, as I think, who 745 with difficulty produced images of images? Such is every man who is crafty. Seeing these things, you labored to find a shepherd. How little effort you have spent! I cover my face in shame. You were looking for a leader just as one would look for an accountant.

Metrical Version

But if a good man is present, again as a light, The pillar of fire, the vast Israel goes forth, Toward which we hasten with speed, the land of hope, Though one be not frequent in the market or in assemblies, A Proteus of a sophist, changeable to every form, Another Melampus, or another unstable man, Who assumes alternating shapes, When a sudden change of affairs has come. Who, tell me, would call the man useless, By seeing whom everyone becomes immediately better? Or who would call an excellent and noble prelate One whom you, seeing, suddenly spit upon our own? For excessive talk is displeasing to the wise, But a simple speech has power to persuade. That man, I maintain, is such as you wish to be; Does it seem to you to be a famous painter, Not one who paints living things with simple color, Polycletus, or Euphranor, or a new Zeuxis; But one who with florid, and indeed unshadowed Colors, expresses a shapeless body, Another Callimachus and Calais, as I think, Who scarcely gave images of images? Such indeed is a crafty man. Considering these things, with much labor you would seek A prelate. But oh, the shame! What slowness, That you believe a prelate is an accountant.

POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

^A Dung is your concern, but my concern is with greater things. 750 Let there be one task for this priest, and one alone: To purify souls in both life and word, Bringing them upward with divine impulses, Tranquil, and lofty-minded, and molded 755 By stainless manifestations, solely of God, Like a mirror internally fashioned; And to offer pure oblations on behalf of his children, Until he may render them an offering. Let other things be left to those more suited to such matters. 760 Thus, for us, would life be safely held. Since, however, freedom of speech seems to you a matter of the greatest importance, So be it; nor does it seem trivial to me, ^A If we use it with reason and in moderation. But hear how the matter stands: for the wise man 765 Silent is worth more than that wandering speech of yours. Yours is confidence that is merely audacity; His is nobility of character and the fulfillment of the word. And if an occasion for freedom of speech should ever arise, You will see the gentle man as a fighter, and by how much 770 He succeeds, then you will discover. You will know what a monkey is, and what a roaring lion, When your human speech is spat upon, As your evil conscience bends toward the earth, But he, being reproachless, is easily accepted. 775 For there is nothing more persuasive than character.

[alt-version omitted]

^A Thus, in this part, the old fox succumbs; yet he sits distinguished among others, enjoying a table not his own, despising all, as if they were abortions, 780 to the same degree that he himself deserves to be despised—having this one thing only, the famous city, in which he boasts, precisely the cause for which you are doomed to perish miserably. For thus you make more men evil.

And what pack-ass from the city has ever sought to be more than another 785 pack-ass rustic? But an ass is what it is, even if it dwells in a city. What is all this? How is it that by these things you do not cooperate with the wicked? How is it that they run a smooth course, unless clearly there were a slipping? For even the wise suffer something from the unwise, 790 when for the wicked things turn out well, but those who are upright in their lives suffer burdens. Or is this the best thing, just as in some storm ^B that confounds everything, by turning aside a little, while all things are shaken above and below, 795 to place one's brief days in safety, and to establish one's old age in a noble end? Have your thrones, then, and your tyrannies, you, since these things seem primary to you; rejoice, cast insults, and take by lot your patriarchates. 800 Let the great world yield to you; change places from place to place; cast down some, and lift up others: these things are pleasing to you. Go your way; but I shall turn myself toward God,

I live, and I breathe, and to Him alone I look, 805 to whom, before I was born, the mother who bore me pledged me; to whom dangers bound me, and the grace of the nights. To Him I shall sacrifice the pure movements of my mind, ^A conversing, as far as it is possible, alone with the Alone. These things are for you, the wicked, on behalf of the good, 810 to whom, if the word is irksome, it has found him whom it seeks. The rest, my friends, will be said from that other place; but receive from me, if you please, a parting word, short indeed, but useful, as those who receive at the end 815 ancestral ^B utterances and commands worthy of memory, after which no speech is heard any longer, and which remain all the more in the depths of the mind. If you should take to yourselves some other Gregory, my friends, spare him more; but if not, then secondly, 820 be noble and good toward your neighbors, and toward yourselves, you who are for the present of one mind, so long as you are held by the same sufferings. And the peace which I myself strove for, always cherish, putting aside your own infirmities, 825 by which the common good is miserably disturbed. And I shall dismiss my own, whether we hold opinions greater than those of others, or whether length of time makes me harsh and in most things difficult, ^C or whether, having been smitten, I am alone in my mind from intoxication.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

806 *The dangers.* That is, of the storm, as he sets it forth at length in the same poem. *And the grace of the nights.* Gregory recounts that he was stirred to the love of chastity in dreams infra, poem XLV, verse 229. 807 *To Him I shall sacrifice the movements of my mind.* The Coislin manuscript reads *my* mind. 809 *These things are for you.* These things are said to the presbyters, concerning whom he speaks at length infra, poem XXX, verse 83, etc. 810 *To whom, if...* The Coislin manuscript reads *as who*. 811 *From that other place.* That is, in the other life. 818 *Some other Gregory.* By these words it is evident that Nectarius had not yet been designated as bishop of the Church of Constantinople when Gregory sang these things. Thus also above in poem VII, verses 5 and 6: If you find another in my stead, honor him. The venerable Spirit among us is witness to me. If you have discovered another in my stead, have honor for him. The venerable Spirit to me, whose parts I sustain. 823 *And the peace which I myself...* Regarding this matter, see infra, poem XV, verse 35. He explains this more at length in the preceding poem, when, in the case of Paulinus, after the death of Meletius, bishops were contending wondrously among themselves, and some were substituting one bishop of Antioch, and others another, against the opinion of Gregory. See above in poem X, to the priests of Constantinople, where he complains that he had been expelled from his seat through envy, because he was unwilling to attach himself to either party, whether of the Orientals or of the Occidentals. 825 *By which the common good...* He treats of the dissensions of those who set the world on fire infra, poem XVI. 829 *Or whether, having been smitten.* ^D This is familiar... [alt-version omitted]

I think those who are sober are stricken with drunkenness. ^A Believe it as you wish. Only be mindful of me, who have labored much in the ways of friends, and who possess reason as a noble advocate, and this old age that has delivered me from evils. 835 Thus, perchance, some one of my friends might be reconciled to me, once the struggle has died down which envy accompanies.

XIII. To the Bishops

O you who offer bloodless sacrifices, priests! O illustrious guardians of souls! O you who carry in your hands the work of the great God! O you who bring the great God to men in one! ^A 5 O foundations of the world, light of life, pillar of the Word, mystagogues of a brilliant and unending life, Christ-bearers, sitting upon the highest seats, lofty, rejoicing in beautiful theaters, ^B stage-walkers, standing upon wooden stilts, 10 weaklings gaping in alien masks, whom you hold to be similar to all men in matters of internal piety! You indeed may play, as you do play unbecomingly, and speak haughtily, but do deeds that are very light. But as for me, even if you 15 all together deem me an evil and impious man, and cast me far from your choir, shooting at me with thick volleys of arrows, both openly and, what is more pleasing to you, in secret; ^C

830 I judge those who are drenched in wine to be abstemious. Resolve it as it may please you. Yet be mindful of me, who have suffered much in the ways of friends, having a truly noble patron in reason, and this very old age that frees me from these evils; 835 thus perchance some one of my friends will be reconciled to me, when the strife that envy accompanies has been extinguished.

824-825 XIII. To the bishops. O you who offer bloodless victims, priests! O illustrious guardians of souls! O you who carry in your hands the figment of the great God! O you who reconcile to men the supreme majesty of God! 5 O foundations of the world, light of life, and pillar of doctrine, initiators of a lucid and eternal life, Christ-bearers, seated upon the best raised seats, sublime, rejoicing in showy theaters, stage-walkers, leaning on wooden feet, ^B 10 gently agape in alien masks, but in those things which are of internal piety, similar to all! You indeed may play, as you do play, unworthily; speak great things, act in a very futile manner. 15 Indeed, even if you all together think me an evil and destructive man, and cast me out far from your choir, striking me with the swiftest missiles, both open, and—which pleases you more—hidden.

METRICAL VERSION

O you who offer to God sacrifices not stained with gore, illustrious guardians of souls, and you who guide with your hands the wondrous figment of the Thunderer, and you who unite God to the human race in one, ^B light of life, pillar of faith, foundations of the world, teachers of a life that is closed by no age, Christ-bearers, who sit upon most noble seats, sublime, who rejoice in beautiful theaters, stage-walkers, standing upon wood-made feet, ^C agape in a mask of piety for some weak purpose, but in your inner heart entirely similar to the rest! Play, if you wish, the things which you yourselves play shamefully, and perform all contrary acts with grave words. But as for me, even though I be placed by you among the class of the guilty, and be driven far from your throng, and wretchedly be attacked with dense arrows without end, open or covered—for that is more pleasing to you; ^D

SECTION I. POEMS ON HIMSELF

Yet my spirit urges and commands me: I shall speak out, though unwilling, but I will pour forth the word from my ^A soul, as when a wave, driven by a violent wind within, and running through the caverns, bubbles up unseen, and somewhere breaks forth from the floor, through the mouth of a bursting pang. Such is what I suffer. I cannot contain the anger within; but receive it, if I shall utter any word that is stinging, a child of grief. It is a remedy for pain even to tell one's tale to the air.

The great body of Christ, the precious glory of the King, the people of the whole earth, the prince, the peerless nation, ^B once was. Yet now the possession of God is shaken, here and there, like a wave of the loud-roaring sea, or a plant tossed by violent winds.

This is the people to whom God came from the heavenly throne, pouring out His glory into mortal bowels, and was mingled with mortals, God and man gathered into one, and gave a great price by suffering in the flesh, and poured forth His divine blood as a ransom for our wickedness, and many other victims, those who later sowed the word for all, and encountered sweet death by a bitter hand, so that by the word they might pay back the Word of God, and by blood pay back blood.

Who shakes this body? Whence comes such a burden to me? How, O solitary one, did the boar plunder my vineyard? How did the moonless night hide away such glory? Maddened, a worker of evil, since he grudges mortals, ^C

METRICAL VERSION

Nevertheless, I shall say that which my mind bids me say, though unwilling, not with a willing mind, just as when a wave, driven by the whirlwind of a fearsome wind, pushed from without, enters the hidden caverns and rages secretly; yet something from there sometimes leaps forth and bursts out through the narrow mouth of the caves. For such things I suffer; nor is there any power in me now to hold back the motions of my soul and my roaring anger. Forgive me if I say anything from a grieving heart that may strike your souls. For the medicine for pain is to give vent to miserable grief in words.

Great was the body of Christ, the glory of the Lord and of God, the people, prince of the world, a nation incredible aforetime: but now the possession of the highest Divinity is shaken from this, and from this come heavy waves, like the deep sea, or a trunk that is driven on all sides by strong winds.

This people, for whom the Moderator of Olympus approached from the heights, emptying out His own supreme honor into a mortal breast—He, God and mortal at once, joined Himself into one, and paid a great price by suffering death, and poured out that blood by which the stain of vice was driven away, and ^D many other victims, whom that chorus poured out later, who sowed the pious seeds of true faith for all, and endured sweet death through many wounds, so that they might honor the Word with their word, and blood with blood.

Who shakes this corpus? What is the cause of such grief to me? In what manner has the raging boar plundered the honor of our vine? What great darkness suddenly has covered such clear praise and glory? Truly that one, raging with madness, a cunning and hostile one, and inflamed against us with insane hatreds and anger,

^A from the time when he first cast Adam out of paradise and deprived him of eternal life through a deadly fruit, since he was unable—though he desired it—to strike down the whole human race with his snares (for the spark of the Word and the torch raised on high ran gloriously through the whole world, and the persecutors ^B even added strength to those whom the triumphs of the martyrs had confirmed), he found a second, furtive craft. When he saw an army powerful in strength, he cast into its leaders a destructive hatred; for when the leader falls, the whole army inclines toward the earth. A baneful wind shatters a ship sailing the sea, or else breaks it by dashing it against rocks, when it is without a helmsman. ^C So also the ignorance of a director harms homes, cities, choruses, cattle, and chariots. These things are said to those to whom our depravity is known, whoever of us presides over the people. Formerly cities of refuge were appointed for the homicidal; and there was a certain field for the scapegoat victims. ^D There also existed in the last days a certain field of bitterness and blood, where the despisers of Christ shed that which is more than price, holding it to be of wicked and little value—not, however, against the will of Christ, since God cannot be apprehended by hands unless He so wills; yet they did shed it. But now all men, whoever are strangers and of our own fold, know one place of wickedness and death—that which was once the venerable seat of wise men, the protection of the best, this tribunal flourishing with angelic choirs.

^A 70 The chancel, which stands between two worlds, the one abiding and the other taking flight, the boundary of gods and of mortals—this once was. But now, it is a laughable thing, to everyone exposed; a gate not closed, so that I seem to myself to hear a herald in their midst crying out: 75 "Come hither, all you who profess wickedness, you disgrace of mankind, gluttons, those of outstretched necks, the shameless, the haughty, deep-drinkers, wanderers, fond of mocking, soft-robed, liars and those who commit outrage, swiftly swearing false oaths, devourers of the people, laying your impious hands upon the possessions of others, 80 envious, deceitful, faithless, flatterers of the powerful, sycophantic, and to the lowly, like lions, ambiguous, slaves of fickle time, polyps celebrated in fables for their color, ^B recently joined in marriage, fervent, still bearing the down of youth, 85 or thieves of natural fire, having in your eyes a gloomy love, while you flee from the open light—ignorant of heavenly things, recently illuminated, yet soot-stained, your malice running together with a gleaming spirit. Come hither, courageous ones, a broad throne is ready for all. 90 Come hither, incline your youthful necks to the right hand, kindly for all, and they are extended even for those who do not desire them."

METRICAL VERSION

These also, who divide the worlds, of which one ebbs away, while the other ever flourishes and stands firm for ages, and separates gods and men by a fixed boundary—the chancel. Such, indeed, was this place once; but now it is the opposite, ridiculous, with no distinction, when everyone bursts into the inner sanctum through unclosed gates, so that to me, standing in the midst of the assembly and the vast crowd, it seems the herald says with loud voice: "Come hither, O you whom a most shameful life delights, you disgrace of mankind, bellies, of broad neck, devoid of modesty, puffed up with pride, sodden with wine, wanderers, covered in soft raiment, glib-tongued, haters of the truth, petulant, swearing false oaths willingly, for whom the common folk are an unhappy prey, ^B plunderers, faithless men, whom unjust envy consumes, and whom evil crafts and guile delight, base flatterers to the high-placed, lions to the abject, ambiguous, and of feigned souls, and ever slaves of time, saying now this, now the opposite, as the polypus is accustomed to change [its] colors upon the rocks; recently wedded in marriage, with fervent youth, or thieves of native fire, having in your eyes a dark Venus, while you flee the open light, whoever are ignorant of heavenly wisdom, and though recently gifted with splendor, are stained like soot, while vice enters simultaneously with the bright Bishop. Come hither, intrepid ones, the broad throne receives everyone. Come hither, and yield your youthful neck to the hand. For the neck is stretched out and extended of its own accord to all".

".

Manna again, a strange shower; let each gather it into his bosom. ^A Whether one gathers more, or less, it is one and the same gift. But if you wish, do not even spare the holy day, for the sake of the Lord Who sanctified it, for which He ordained rest; 95 Lest perhaps it even rot in your insatiable hands. Air is common to all, and the earth is common, Common is the broad heaven, and what the heaven shows to the eyes, Common again is the grace of the sea, and common the thrones. A great miracle—not even Saul is a stranger to grace, but a prophet. 100 Let no plowman, therefore, no builder, no shoemaker, No one pursuing the hunt, nor one plying the fiery craft, Remain afar, nor let another have a divine guide. For it is better to rule than to obey one who rules. But let one man throw down a great axe from his hands, and another a plow-handle, And come hither, and press around the divine table, Squeezing and being squeezed. And let the brave man drive away another, Often even one who is excellent, one who has sweated upon the thrones, An old man, wasted in flesh, a traveler to heaven, ^B 110 Despising the world, having a portion with God, A dead man among the living, a noble priest of the King. A man painted an image from an archetypal image, Setting it before him, and the tablet received the form; But as for you, let one who looks upon you walk the opposite path. 115 And may this be the only benefit from your baseness. ^D The herald speaks with a loud voice. But I Fear what I heard concerning the illustrious Moses, ^C When I ponder with myself the holy oracles, a cold tremor seizes my limbs.

^A For he alone within the cloud saw God face to face, while he ordered the others to remain at the foot of the mountain, 120 most pure, in pure garments and trembling, to hear only the divine voice. For it was not safe even for beasts to tread the ground of the heavenly one, lest they be crushed and die beneath the breaking rocks. I fear also the fate of the sons of Aaron, who, 125 having placed offerings upon strange fire, perished strangely in an instant, and the place of the offerings was turned into a place of death, and although they were the sons of the great Aaron, they were subdued. And even as a woeful destruction befell the sons of Eli, ^B the sons of Eli, because they had a ravenous mind. For they cast 130 profane hands upon the holy cauldrons. Nor did Eli escape the wrath, but even him— ^C though he was just—the impure appetite of his sons destroyed, even though he had not spared them with reproachful words. But if such wrath follows such faults, 135 how much more is it to be feared for greater evils! And you ^D also, O sovereign ark, he who supported you with a profane hand when you were swaying, perished at once. Yet the temple of God kept the surrounding walls untouched by hands. Therefore I groan, and I fall before your feet, 140 O King Christ, let no calamity meet me in my retreat. I am exhausted by the wolves that ravage the flock, 141 having struggled for a long time against the shepherds. From my withered limbs my spirit has fled, and I breathe but a little, 144 worn by labors and by my own disgraces. 145 Of these men, some, contending for the holy thrones, [alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

Invading each other, striking and struck, they are indomitable fighters, crying out for peace while exulting in blood. Would that they experienced the Gethæan malady, fitting and inherent to the seat, 150 paying the penalty in the seat itself. Others again, divided between the two, move both the East and the West, and God ended in flesh, on account of those who struggle, while others take both a name and a contest: "Paul is mine," "Peter is yours," and "Apollos is 155 theirs" — they are gods. But Christ was nailed to the cross in vain. For we are not called by Christ, but by men, though it is by His hands and His blood that we possess this glory. So great a love of vain glory, or of possessions, or of dreadful envy ^A 160 has clouded our eyes—an envy that wastes away, rejoicing in evils, a just pain for those who labor under this vice! The Trinity is the pretext, but the reality is an implacable hatred. Each man is double, a sheep covering a wolf, and as brass provides for fish a deadly bait from out of the snares. Such are the leaders; and the people follow close behind, 165 prone to vice, even without a guide; nor is there any distinction between the upright and the wicked, or between the prudent gray hair and the senseless youth, or between a life of difficult piety and one of soft indulgence. There is one law: for the worst to have more. May he perish, 170 that man who first introduced the wicked here. May the world be theirs, and their God, and all things that those who are best

^A should struggle in vain. Such are the judgments that have pleased our judges; may Justice flee far away from here. 175 Let all things be together: Christ, mortal, sun, star, light, darkness, a noble angel, and Lucifer no longer shining. ^B Let the Christ-killer Iscariot be weighed equally with Peter, and most wicked Samaria with the holy Jerusalem. Let gold be held equal to silver and iron, 180 the pearl to the tearful stone, and the ravines to the springs; let all things be confounded together and brought into one, as once it was, when the primordial matter was without order, still travailing with a world not yet distinctly established. 184 And there was a time when the great temple was not accessible to the Moabites, 185 nor even to the Ammonites, since they had grieved the host. But Jesus counted others among the water-carriers and wood-bearers, since they had deceived him. These were for the wicked. But for Levi, he honored his offspring, for he placed them as ministers of the heavenly tent; 190 and even here there were limits for sacrifices, for the ground, and for labor. For one man held his hands to some tasks, another to others, however many were busy within the temple and outside. Those men fought for virtue with such laws; but we, in turn, have set prizes for vice. O death! 195 What singer, most skilled in lamentation, would weep for these things? Cease, friends; let us desist from struggling in wickedness; that God may at some time be honored with holy sacrifices.

METRICAL VERSION

^A If I could persuade you, it would be to my advantage; but if the audacity of young men and the croaking of jackdaws 200 — that baneful cloud of folly — shroud my words and my gray hairs, I call to witness the hand of the immortal God and that terrible day which consumes the light material of all things in the final fire. ^B I am no companion to them, nor do I share their work, nor am I their counselor, their fellow-voyager, or their fellow-traveler. 205 Let them go their own way; but I seek the ark of Noah, that I might escape a dire fate. Thereafter, I would flee, remaining far from the wicked, and the fiery, bitter, and unspeakable tempest of Sodom, ^C of which this bond holds the wandering mind, gathering it within, while 210 looking entirely within, laughing at the storms of life, which even defile the faces of the wise with dust, and always tracing divine thoughts in the heart, unmixed with worse things, clear, approaching the light of the ^D Tri-luminous Deity, so that with fervent desires 215 I might reach the propitious throne of the immortal God, where all things are manifest, and then, in the hands of the right-judging God, things are weighed in an equal balance.

XIV. On Himself, and Against Those Who Envy Him, With an Acrostic

[index: entries preserved on textual notes]

METRICAL VERSION

If my words could bend your minds, that would be better; but if worse counsels prevail, and the headlong audacity of youth, like a mist, shrouds my words and my old age, and clamors against holy warnings like a garrulous crow, I call witness the right hand of the Eternal Father and the day which will burn the empty chaff with heavy flames, that I shall not join myself to these as a companion, neither in seat, nor in counsel, nor as a traveler by land or sea. Let them proceed along the path which the journey of life has begun; but as for me, that I might flee the most sorrowful fates of death, I seek the ark of Noah. Afterward, being myself removed far away, from the rain with which Sodom was divinely consumed: and bringing back my mind from the world and the things of the world, I watch with vigilance within, and the storms of life, which also shamefully stain the faces of the prudent, I follow with a laugh, fixing in my breast divine thoughts, clear and unmixed with evils, and by studies ever approaching the Triad burning [with love], I shall myself come at last to the tribunal of the Highest Deity; here where all things are clear, and Christ the Judge, holding equal balances in His hands, weighs mortal deeds.

XIV. ACROSTIC POEM ON HIMSELF AND AGAINST THOSE WHO ENVY HIM

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

Our trifles contain something not unrefined. From iambic verses, another poem is born. Approach the acrostics, and you will understand clearly. I am an old man, and one learned in many evils. For a wrinkle is the experience of circumstances, Which, for the most part, produces wisdom. My old age has not yet seen such a great evil As it now beholds in this long time. It would be easiest to learn it in a brief word: The leaders of the people stand lawlessly opposed, Fortified with weapons, and with wrath, and with envy; Insolent, they seethe like wild fire, And the whole world is divided.

^A I, however, a refined man (for I did not think small thoughts), Had no desire to strike the wicked with a rod; (I would have bought this at any price, you know, even now). But what was possible, I did: I held the two stones, Imitating the Savior who is the corner-stone. But, just as one wishing to moderate the anger Of lions or bristling boars in the midst of a conflict— I did not stop the insolence, and I was myself crushed. For it is easier to suffer than to do any good deed. A witness, indeed, am I, who, when suffering at its zenith, Was released most swiftly from the double danger. But it is not possible to bear insolence easily, Which is always present, a most protracted day.

[alt-version omitted]

Whoever does not understand these things is quite far from us. ^A Let them combine into one the only work they have, their deceits against me. If I have departed from the thrones, what is greater than this? But if I have been cast out against my will, of what are those who dared these things worthy? Now I am enthroned, tomorrow I am without a throne. 30 Can anyone find even a false pretext for this? O Christ, I dare to speak something of what is in my heart. They envy my struggles and my stones; perhaps the Spirit is under attack—I will speak clearly—the Spirit (hear me), as God, I say again. 35 To me You are God, and a third time I cry, God is that. Strike! You aim well with your stones. I stand as the immovable target of truth, ^B spitting out the whistling of words and missiles. The Father is for us the root and source of good things; 40 from Him is begotten light, the Son and Word, the seal of Him who has no beginning; and the Spirit, a nature beyond time; God, my God, and God, the triple unity. There is none who will prevent me from saying these things. Let my Trinity know: time shall not change my word. 45 Let all things be shaken; may God not be shaken from me. For it is the same crime to dishonor one or the whole Trinity. I possess a voice, while you possess cities and splendid thrones. I check my tongue (O beautiful tyranny!) and I would shine as a lamp placed above a lampstand.

50 May I illuminate the whole world with my radiance. These things are for now: but a little later there will be new thrones, And a legal order of first and second positions. How grievous would this failure be, If God were not later to cast the dice. 55 I disdain to be attached to the goods of this place; You are making a libation to this world, but I to God, In order that I might easily bear the unpleasantries. Night hides all things, day brings them to light. Full many labors I endured; but yet they are not worthy 60 Of the rewards that await those who are friends to God. Isaiah was being sawed in two, but he remained steadfast; The fire welcomed the three youths in a foreign land. ^D Daniel was thrown to the beasts as if to friends; And in Rome, Paul and Peter are victors. 65 And was not the Forerunner a sacrifice for his freedom of speech? They know that I have died. But as for me, Father, I am yours, even if you wish to toss me about in worse trials.

XV. Concerning himself after his return from the city of Constantinople.

I come, having left behind the great surge of the sea of life, Which is tossed here and there by grievous winds. I come having with me what I have achieved, and having left behind what I labored over: Trembling over the former, but rejoicing over the latter. 5 I left behind nothing pleasant, for which I would grieve with longing; To some things I yielded unwillingly, but to others willingly.

[alt-version omitted]

^A Such was the beloved possession I held, a wealth unlike others, a comfort and forgetfulness of toils: The common radiance of the great Trinity, which, revealing, 10 I traveled even to the lands of the high-born; Yet not altogether unscathed, for I was received with stones, Like some malefactor. To Thee, O Trinity, be this thanks. I surely brought it to light, and as a circle around a center, I fashioned all with words of piety. 15 It was a race, but envy and disease sent me back, Much complaining against the envious demon, Who shook off the holy offspring of my labor, Newly established, standing in the vestibule of life. But my Trinity is again by impious mouths 20 Divided, in the marketplaces and in the choral dances, ^B And profligate words grow strong. The sword, alas, alas! Who shall Phinehas-like pierce this fornication with a harlot-slaying hand, Being a zealot in both spirit and name, or who shall bring aid To the Hebrew doctrines that are being unjustly struck down? 25 Moses—and having immediately destroyed the Egyptian myth— Shall win great glory among the great people? Who shall take the whole Godhead into his own mind, Subtracting nothing from the great Trinity, And with keen understanding and strong words 30 Shall scatter the fury of opposing speeches? Who shall fix the unshakable faith at the critical moments of arrows, Standing unyielding amidst changeable powers? And not like the stream of the much-wandering Euripus, Shall turn this way and that, flowing? [alt-version omitted]

POETICAL VERSION

35 Who, then, shall still the chilling strife of the mighty priests, And bring them together as champions of charity? For my part, this was my desire, since God so commands, Christ, the physician of mortals by the laws of his own sufferings, By which on the cross he bound together both the good and the bad, 40 Both he who is far from the kingdom of God, and he who is near. Wherefore he is the cornerstone for both, Drawing peoples into one by the bond of friendship. ^A This was my desire; but they who before hated me treated me with contempt, Nor did they place any store in my counsel, nor have any reverence for it. 45 And would that my Trinity were free from the strife with which they assail it With thick-flying missiles! O Trinity, stay the strife; And let not wicked envy look upon me, but to my labors ^B Grant a good end, O growing one. Farewell, noble seat of Anastasia, who didst set up 50 The faith, that was dead, on high once more through my words. ^C Neither in death will I forget thee, but will stand beside the best, Entreating the Trinity on behalf of my children.

XVI. A Dream concerning the church of Anastasia, which he founded in the city of Constantine.

I was enjoying sweet sleep; and a dream ^D Set Anastasia before my eyes, bringing cities to my garments; The first, she who brings the difficult doctrine that remains at the foothills Up to the very highest peak of the mountain: 5 Wherefore they call her by the name Anastasia, This temple, the work of my own industrious hand.

A Vision Regarding the Church of Anastasia, Which He Built in the City of Constantine

^A I seemed to be seated, high on a throne, yet not high-minded— For not even in a dream did I cultivate arrogance. On either side of me sat the elders, 10 The leaders of the flock, a chosen age. The ministers stood in garments all-resplendent, The very image of angelic brightness. The crowds were poured out, like bees, about The chancel rails—for the struggle was to draw the nearer. 15 Others, rushing, were compressed at the sacred portals, Hasting with their ears as much as with their feet. Markets and intersecting streets, those too, Trampled by feet, sent other groups to hear my words. And from the high roofs, the chaste virgins 20 Together with the noble matrons leaned down to lend an orderly ear. ^A And this was the play of the night: a distinct people stood by, Desiring to hear my discourses. One sort sought a lowly and accessible speech, Since it did not wish, nor had it learned, to look aloft; 25 But others desired a speech that soared high and was intricately turned, those whose care it was To trace the depths of both wisdoms, The foreign and our own. And a clamor rose from either side As the word was pulled by competing desires. But for me, the Trinity, the one to be adored alone, flowed from my lips, 30 Shimmering with the triple light opened up, With a firm voice and a seething flood Of the Spirit, and with the leaps of words against my rivals. And some were shaken and believed, while others were silent ^B In their wonder, and some grumbled at the discourse, and others in their mind.

35 With a dying, silent struggle; while others fought Like a wave stirred up by the winds. But eloquence charmed them all, both those skilled in speech And those learned in the holy dogmas of piety, Both our own [people] and the outsiders, and those very far from the fold, 40 The wretched worshippers of powerless idols. And as a cluster of grapes, darkened beneath the warm rays, Is neither purely sour, gradually ripening, Nor entirely ripe, but part black, another part red, Another part smoky, and another contains a sour grape— 45 Thus they were contending while their wickedness was ripening, And already I rejoiced in the wider wine-presses. Such was my state; and the chorus of cocks shook sleep From my eyelids, and with it, Anastasia. ^A And I had a phantom of a phantom for a time, but then 50 It too fled from my heart, fading softly. Only my pain remained for me, and a troublesome old age. Woe is me for my Trinity! Woe is me for my children! O envy, why have you dealt with me so? You have so much; do not cast Anything worse upon my miserable life. 55 The royal city, indeed, glories in many And great, cunningly crafted monuments, It glories in heavenly temples beyond all others, Temples once mine, but now belonging to others; Together with these, the proud seat of Christ’s disciples, 60 Marked with the form of the cross, divided into four parts. But neither the longing nor the pain for these is as great for me As that for Anastasia, my final Bethlehem.

[alt-version omitted]

^A Much have I endured by land and by sea, from enemies and friends, from shepherds and wolves, from hateful disease and stooping old age; but never before has such grief come upon me. Not so much did the spear-famed ^B people weep for the great temple when they were led ^C far away from their fatherland to the Assyrians, nor for the ark when it was mingled with the foreigners, nor Jacob of old for his stolen beloved son; nor did any lioness with fair mane weep for her whelps slain by hunters, nor the herdsman for a flock destroyed, nor a bird ^D unwillingly abandoning its nest built upon a hospitable tree, nor the octopus its chamber, as much as I even now lament the newly built temple, the fruit of my labors, which another now holds. If ever my heart should forget Thee, or if my tongue should utter ^A anything before Thee, may Christ forget me. Often, even apart from the great sacrifices and the table, did I sanctify the people of Anastasia while dwelling afar, setting up an incorporeal temple within my heart, pouring out tears to divine visions. ^B O virgins, and singers, and lovely choruses of strangers and of my own people, from the opposing choir, and widows and orphans, wanderers, and the infirm, looking to my hands as if to the hands of God, and sweet homes, nurses of the aged, I shall never, not even if I wished, forget your love. And if any remembrance of me, who have suffered so much, remains among you, this is a favor of the Trinity. For many have a heart ^C that hangs upon the times, and modesty resides only in the eyes of the frivolous.

METRICAL VERSION

Much indeed have I borne often by land and sea, ^B while enemies and our own people stir up wars against me, while the wolf and the shepherd, disease and curved old age do so: and not yet has such pain crushed my bones. Not so did the people weep for the roofs of Salem sacred to God when they were being dragged to Chaldean shores; not so when the barbarian had seized the holy ark; not so was the son of Isaac lamented when stolen of old; not so did the fierce lioness weep for her whelps destroyed, nor the shepherd for his flock extinguished by death; not so did the bird weep for its nest cast down from the tree, and its unfeathered chicks; nor the octopus for its chamber; as much as I now lament the temple recently built by me, which another now holds, reaping the seeds of my labors. If my mind should not remember Thee, if my tongue should first put forth anything, may Christ Himself not be mindful of me; often also without the sacred rites, with the table far off, and removed, I have surveyed the common people of my Anastasia, fashioning for myself in my mind a shrine devoid of body and bathing my sad face with my tears. The choirs of virgins, the singers, the dear bands of our people, and those whom a foreign land has borne; the orphans and widows, and the wanderers, and the infirm, seeing my hands as if they were those of God: and the sweet houses, nursing homes of the aged, I could not, even if I wanted to, be unmindful of you. But if by chance any forgetfulness does not altogether hold your minds regarding me, let there be grace to the Trinity. For many link their heart to the times: in the frivolous, modesty is only in their eyes.

^A Yet this I desire, O venerable Trinity, that thy deity may remain fixed and never-to-be-forgotten in souls recently born. 95 Farewell, O kings, helpers in my tribulations; farewell, East and West, contending with one another; farewell, priests, attacking one another; farewell, haughty prelate; farewell, great city. For I am higher than earthly thrones, 100 and I desire only immortal glory. But save me, save me, dear Trinity; finally we shall see where the pure seat of Anastasia is. This is the lament of Gregory, longing for Anastasia, from which envious weakness once expelled him. ^B

XVII. Of the various ways of life, and against false bishops.

The painter is best, who on tablets expresses True forms, looking as if they were living; Not he who, having mixed many and fair colors in vain, Shows a painted meadow from his tablets. 5 I praise a ship that travels the sea, not one shimmering With conspicuous ornaments, or with flowers at the stern; But the one which the hands of the shipbuilder have most excellently Joined with bolts, and entrusted safely to the waves. And the army is best, which is warlike rather than beautiful, 10 And the house that is solidly built yields to the shining one. So it is with the lives of mortals. One is immortal, which Fear of Christ leads, free from deceitful wickedness;

^A innerly weak, yet possessing outward strength, short-lived, and like those deprived of sense, whose every thought is whirled about in their unstable minds. Such also is the heart of some who are ministers of the greatly-gloried Christ. The one is a servant of mortal, feeble man, yielding to the times, a reed greatly bent by the blasts, no remedy for any form of wickedness, but a pattern of it. But the other, with trembling and holy hands, brings a gift, reconciled by the flesh of Christ, and by the great sufferings which God endured here, that He might deliver us from the evils which we have suffered from the very beginning of our race; he lives for Him alone, and finds joy in Him, for whose sake he draws his heart up from earthly things, rising up from here. ^B He is bent no more than a cold, adamant stone; nor does he turn towards the wealth and great surges of men, nor toward human glory dragged along in this place; nor, wearing the skin of a kingly, great-hearted lion, does he conceal a fox-like slavery within, a devourer of the dead, clever in deceit, lawless, hiding himself in various ways in all sorts of forms of wickedness. But ever increasing his mind with pure thoughts, he now even touches the heavenly Trinity, the type of which he has established within his own heart, beholding glory in three beauties, and fashioning the people to be godlike with holy sacrifices, he offers the final bloodless sacrifice of his soul.

^A Of these, I longed to be one—I shall not conceal it— Having already placed my feet within the portals. But when I saw impious deeds and wretched craft, Drawing back, I set my foot outside. 45 Verily, I suffered much among other unbelievers, To whom the sound of my tongue still reaches. Stones were my lot, the Trinity was theirs—a newly established divinity; With such gifts we entertained one another. But even so I yielded, leaving behind a doctrine no longer gainsaid, 50 Buffeted on all sides by the waves that were ours. Lie there—advance, advance, base envy! Perhaps indeed I shall Restrain thee, even when hidden in the final trials, And shut up within the dark bowels of a beast, Of a sea-monster, as once Jonah sank. 55 The body is indeed within the entrails, but the mind, in unrestrained impulses, Shall go wherever it wills, even if confined. This alone among goods shall be free—neither to be held Nor to be taken—the mind being uplifted to Christ. I, Gregory, shall no longer be the guest of a mortal king, as before, 60 Carrying small favor in a sack, Lying in the midst, dejected and silent, Drawing a breathless sigh, feasting like a slave. A judge shall not honor me with a seat, nor shall a member of the council, Nor one earth-bound, measuring out the spirit. 65 Nor shall I kiss hands stained with blood, nor shall I Seize a beard, so as to obtain some trifling favor; Nor shall I run with a crowd to a holy feast, a birthday, Or that of one who has died, or any bridal gathering.

METRICAL VERSION

^A I shall not offer all these things to my jaws, nor to my retainers, with the greedy hands of a Briareus; but bringing my burden late, a living tomb, back to my house, I shall drag it, weary and distressed in my miserable belly, breathing with difficulty from satiety, yet hastening to another rich feast before the prior gluttony has dissipated. Nor, when I am presiding in sacred places, whether alone or with many gathered into one, shall I utter things pleasing to the ears, casting away what belongs to the Spirit, that I might appear well-intentioned, holding the affection of the many, and delighting in applause, dancing in theaters, a tightrope-walker of words clashing against one another, like pugilists, or with a thousand deceptive contortions, or like charioteers raging against one another; bound by the constraints of speech to the alien things of all, not having cast aside the false opinion of the heart, nor having cast down to the earth the pride swelling with teachings, nor having summoned a tear with fountains of tears, but holding one grave ^B drug: a spirit that is a hunter of honor, a truly deadly drug.

No longer shall I sit in synods, a colleague of geese or cranes fighting indiscriminately; there is strife, there is combat, and shames previously hidden are gathered into one place by those in discord. For this reason, I sit among the humble as a physician of maladies, being myself free of maladies.

XVIII. AGAINST THE ENVIOUS

[alt-version omitted]

For it is not for my gray hairs to play, nor to serve in an unseemly way for the sake of thrones, over which men fight, splitting into factions, and tearing the whole world lawlessly apart. 100 Woe, woe, at how many evils we are pressed! Let these things belong to those who take pleasure in them, and to the rule of the Cercopes; but I shall be filled, keeping quiet, with Christ. And if it is a wrong to abandon the reins of a God-minded people, let the leaders of those who have cast them off know this, 105 so that, just as a swift horse, impatient of the bit, carries its spirit over precipices or cliffs, so too may they be carried. I pray that all things pleasing to God may be the concern of these men; but if they intend worse things, may I be deaf to them from afar.

^A

XVIII. AGAINST THE ENVIOUS.

From the time I approached God, having left behind the life of the world, I have been tossed by many grievous storms; for envy breathes against me, wishing to cast me far from God and to seize me into those same shadows. 5 Whence have my friends become hostile to me, and the good become evil? They are all one, acting equally in wickedness. Whence, bringing such a discourse from afar to so great a city, and gaining what more, when I know it to be the first of all the cities under the rays of the sun, 10 have I been oppressed by disease and by evil companions? This is a refining fire, I think, and I welcome it; only, O Christ, may I attain to Your glory, which knows no envy.

^B

METRICAL VERSION. XVIII. AGAINST THE ENVIOUS (Translated by A. B. Caillau)

From the time that I, given to God, left the world behind, I am tossed, alas! by frequent storms; for envy blows against me, wishing to drive me, cast far from God, into the very same shadows. Why do my friends hate me? Why have the good become evil? Why are they all, one and all, acting wickedly? What have I gained, I who bring such words from afar to a city that shines beneath the wheel of the sun, the most glorious of all, yet am weighed down by disease and by evils that torment me? I am tested by fire; I acquiesce. Only grant, O Christ, that I may enjoy Your glory, which is free of envy.

XIX. Complaint regarding his own calamities

I often fretted against Christ the King while I was suffering under great evils. For a king sometimes bears the servile murmur of a servant uttered quietly in his mouth, just as a good father often gently accepts the manifest boldness of words from his foolish son. Therefore, may You also, O God, be propitious to my words, which my grieving heart, O most gentle One, shall send to You, belching forth from the distress of my mind a slight remedy for my afflictions. O Christ the King, why have You oppressed me with so many evils ever since I slipped from my mother into mother earth? Had You not bound me in the darkness of the womb, why so many heavy burdens, both on sea and on land? Why have I been cast about by enemies, by friends, by the worst of leaders, by strangers, by my own countrymen, openly and by treachery, and by stony snows? Who could relate all these things distinctly? I alone am famous to all, not because of eloquence, nor because I surpass others in strength of hand, but because, with troubles and sorrows surrounding me like a lion, ^A evil dogs bark at me from every side, a pitiful tune, in the East and in the West. Perhaps it will even come to pass that someone, relieving his mind at a banquet, or some traveler, or someone striking his fingers upon a tuneful lyre, will be the narrator of my sufferings in sounds without speech.

Metrical Version

Often, I shall confess, it has come into my mind to carp at God with an iniquitous voice. For indeed a master frequently bears the servile murmur flowing from a silent breast; and if perchance a son has spoken more harshly, a father bears it with an equal mind, and just anger does not boil over. Therefore, I pray, accept with a ready ear even our complaints, which a grieving mind, oppressed by savage pain, sends to You, O good King, to the heavenly vault. To belch forth one’s sorrows is a kind of medicine. Why, O best God, have You harassed me with such a hard mass of evils, from the time when I was cast from the womb of my dear mother ^B to come to the breathings of human life? For I shall not recount how You pressed me in dense darkness in my mother's bosom, and with hard chains. Why have the earth and the sea, and a hostile crowd, simultaneously vibrated so many hard and fateful arrows at me? How many did the sacred bond of love join to me, and the wicked hand of leaders goaded by fury? Why do both my own people and a distant race, openly and by stealth, cast opposing words at me, and seek my pitiable limbs with a hail of stones? Who might relate all things exactly, and describe them with vivid color, so that words might not fall short of such great pain? To all, I alone am known, not by the art of speaking, nor because I surpass others in bodily strength: but groans and sad sorrows ennoble me. And just as they do a lion, with perpetual barkings, an impious crowd attacks me from every side with rabid bite, where the Titan rises, and where he withdraws his fiery lights from the world. Moreover, I think that it will one day come to pass that someone, dispersing the wrinkles and seriousness of his mind at a banquet, or perhaps setting out on a journey, or driving away the clouds of cares with the striking of a lyre, singing our fates with a silent, very sad voice, will recall the name of Gregory: of Diocæsarea.

^A Let Him be mindful of Gregory, whom the small city of Diocæsarea nourished among the Cappadocians. But to others you dispensed boundless wealth, to others excellent sons; one is beautiful, another is valiant, another a speaker. Yet for me there is glory in sorrows; and upon me, you poured out all the bitter arrows ^B of your sweet hand. I am another Job; but the cause is no longer the same. For you do not lead me to contend, O Blessed One, as some superior champion against a cruel wrestler, trusting in my own strength, so that, having excelled, you might grant me a prize and glory. ^C Not yet am I so great, nor does glory attend these sorrows. I pay these things as a penalty for my sin. And what sort of transgression 35 I ask, among many, displeases you more? I shall tell everyone what my mind conceals within; perhaps unspoken speech might heal this sin. ^D I was thinking, when I received you alone as my own dear portion, having cast everything of this life at once into the sea, and approaching near to your divinity, raising myself high, I put aside the flesh, and the law was my guide: 45 to master all things, and to cut through the air above all things on golden wings. This stirred up dire envy against me, and bound me with evils and with most inescapable distresses.

POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

[alt-version omitted]

^A Your glory lifted me on high, and your glory cast me upon the earth. You are always angry, O King, with great haughtiness. But hear this, and write it down for those yet to come, you peoples and leaders, hostile and friendly alike: 50 I did not disdain the beloved throne of my great father; it is neither right nor fit to struggle against the laws of God. The law granted it to him; but I placed my youthful hand under his aged hand, and I yielded to the prayers 55 of my father—of my father, whom even he who is farthest from the fold does reverence, respecting his gray hair and the equal splendor of his spirit. But when it pleased the governor of our life that I should declare the Word and the Spirit to others— ^C to strangers, and to rough, thorn-bearing fields— 60 I am but a small drop, yet I have watered a great people. But it pleased Him again that He should suddenly send me back hither, consumed by grievous disease and troublesome anxieties. For care is rust to a man. For a short while I allowed my limbs some relief, 65 having granted them a shepherd’s pipe, an excellent helper, so that no enemy, coming upon my sheep who lacked a guide, might fill his shameless belly with their flesh. But when the leaders were shaken, and the people were shaken with longing for their shepherd—and because of the destructive wild beasts, 70 those who in their human hearts harbor God fixed within—

^A they were without sense, having shaped their soul in a double way. Many, indeed, murmured in disbelief at my sufferings, and that I despised the God-fearing people with arrogance, or so they said, or so their mind held. But to God I revealed my pain. 75 Many, in turn, judged me by nightly dreams, of which desire was the painter, fashioning many trifles; or God revealed these things to them, granting me a noble end, so that I might not be crushed by burdensome hopes, having clothed myself in the evil of the departure from life. 80 For this reason I bowed my neck and, as a captive, come under Thy mighty hand; let judgment be a care to others. There is no profit for me in a life that is judged. ^B Now, therefore, Christ, lead me whither it is pleasing. I have been exhausted by calamities. I am a prophet burdened in the belly of the whale. 85 To Thee I offer these remnants of life. But have mercy on one who is still breathing a little. Why doest Thou drive me so much with pains? Thou didst not die only for the good, O God, when Thou didst come upon the earth (O great miracle, God sprinkling with blood our souls and bodies, O man), nor am I the worst 90 alone. To many others who were worse Thou hast granted glory. Three tax collectors are famous in Thy books, and great Matthew, and he who shed tears in the temple, and Zacchaeus besides these; may I be the fourth. And three were released from their limbs, both he on the bed, and he at the spring, and 95 she whom the spirit had bound; may I be the fourth.

METRICAL VERSION

Amentes mentem eripiunt, mancumque relinquunt; Pars hominum nostris omnino incredula morbis Usque meo tacitum lacerabat murmure nomen, Meque pium nimio populum contemnere fastu Censebat, si non verbis jactabat apertis. At cernit nostros, qui cernit cuncta, dolores. Judicium de me rursus pars magna ferebat, Somnia vana sequens, quæ cuique insana cupido Finxerat, ut plerosque solet componere ludos : Aut Deus hoc etiam retegebat, dum mihi lætum Obtentat finem, ne spes tristissima mentem Conficeret, siquidem postremo ætatis in actu Me quoque dura nimis premerent incommoda rerum. Ergo demissa supplex cervice potentem, Christe, tuam subeo dextram, captivaque tendo Brachia. Jus aliis esto vindictaque curæ. Nil ego judicium mundi moror atque tribunal. Quocirca me sancta ferat tua, Christe, voluntas, Quo me cunque feret nullo cum murmure pergam. Eu cernis quanto miser obruar ipse dolore, Vatis ego ritu premor imo pectore ceti. ^B Relliquias miseræ tenues tibi porrigo vitæ. At miserere, precor, fatique urgentia tela Comprime. Quid tanta me vexas mole dolorum? Non etenim his solis, quibus est charissima virtus, Christe, salutiferum fudisti in morte cruorem, (Tempore quo summa coeli delapsus ab arce Venisti in terras, junctus, mirabile dictu! Humanæ carni Deus immortalis, et omnes Corporis atque animæ detergens sanguine labes); Nec mea criminibus sola est mens tincta nefandis : Quippe aliis multis, scelerum quos sarcina major Curvabat, veniam facilis laudemque dedisti. Tres sacra commemorat claros doctrina telonas, Matthæum, Zacchæum, et qui pia vota precesque Fundebat lacrymis divina oppressus in æde : His me, sancte, velis, Genitor, subjungere quartum. Corpora tres rursus resoluta habuisse leguntur, Qui miser in lecto, prope fontem quique jacebat, Atque ea, quam misere vinctam afflictamque tenebat Spiritus : his ne junge, Pater sanctissime, quartum.

^A And three from the dead beheld the light at Thy bidding, as Thou didst command: the ruler’s daughter, the widow’s son, and Lazarus from the tomb, half-consumed; may I be the fourth. And now, O Good One, might I have remedies to banish pain, and afterward, life without change, exulting greatly in Thy glory. I led a God-minded flock. But if I should be released, may they find a better shepherd; or if one like me, at least one less afflicted by sufferings, O Blessed One; for it is not fitting that the dispeller of diseases should himself wrestle with evil pains.

XX. Prayer to Christ in Sickness.

XXI. Against the Devil.

METRICAL VERSION.

XX. PRAYER TO CHRIST IN SICKNESS. (Translated by Billius.)

XXI. AGAINST THE DEVIL. (Translated by A. B. Caillau.)

XXII. Carmen supplex

O Christ, Light of men, who art the fiery pillar for the soul of Gregory, ^A wandering through the desolate wilderness of this bitter life, restrain indeed the evil-minded Pharaoh and the shameless taskmasters. And from the mire, difficult for constructing, and from the heavy Egypt, deliver me, subduing my enemies with wretched plagues, and make the path smooth for me. But if the pursuing enemy should overtake me, do Thou for me divide even the Red Sea, and may I cross, walking upon firm water, hastening toward the divine land, my inheritance, as Thou hast promised. And do Thou stay the fathomless rivers, and strike down the fierce swords of the foreigners, the cause of my groaning. But if I should ascend to the sacred land, I will praise Thee with eternal hymns.

Christ, King, why hast Thou bound me within these meshes of the flesh? Why in a cold life and a muddy abyss, if I am truly Thine inheritance, as I have heard? The strength has perished from my limbs, nor do my knees any longer follow me. But time and sad disease have dissolved me, and consuming anxiety, and friends who do not feel as friends. But my sins will not yield, but rather they press even more upon me, now that I am destitute of strength, and just as dogs surround a timid hare or a fawn, longing to glut themselves. Either stay my wickedness and have mercy, or take me in, already long struggling, and set a limit to my pains; or may a blessed cloud of forgetfulness cover my mind.

XXIII. In secessionem

Some of those who are acceptable to God enjoy a prosperous voyage, while others suffer adverse conditions, though they are in no respect inferior. Who knows the reasons for this, save Thee, O Word? Is it that one must walk along a rugged and difficult path,

yet I shall say what I feel, as I am. Better it is to have both—to run, and to run well. But if that is not possible, I embrace labors ^A in preference to a shameful and wicked safety. What a great deal I must also bring to God, while suffering in my flesh, and buffeted by the incursions of events. What must I undergo, if I do not attain both? Prepare yourself at once, by feathering your precious soul with the Word as with wings, 15 possessing nothing superfluous, but casting off every burden of this vain life and the evils that are here. I am the servant of the mystical table; I purify the people whom I offer to Thee, by means of bloodless and perfect doctrines. 20 O splendor bursting forth, and fountain of light, as I myself know, who stand in need of purifications, it is a terrible thing to cleanse the stains of filth. Consider this and tremble, you shepherds of the people.

XXIV. Morning Prayer

At dawn I offer my right hands to my God, neither to do nor to praise anything dark, but to sacrifice the day to Thee as much as possible, remaining unshaken and master of my passions. 5 I am ashamed of my old age if I be base, as I am of the table of which I am the attendant. This is my impulse, my Christ; do Thou grant a prosperous outcome.

XXV. Evening Prayer

XXVI. Prayer to Christ on the following day

XXVII. Lamentation

My glory has departed, and may the pains of the flesh also depart. Anastasia is gone; cease also, O wickedness. Alas, alas! Tears flow down from me, my heart within Is frozen. Ward off this double disease, O King; Ward off the disease, O King, for we are perishing. Is it then that only To your servant Gregory is mercy closed? I am wounded by many evils and pains of the flesh; To you, Christ, be grace, who purge me by these things which I suffer. Either restrain this wickedness and be gracious to your servant, Or grant me the strength to bear all things with a resolute mind.

XXVIII. Elegiac Poem

XXIX. On Patience

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

^A It is better for me to be sick than for you to be in health. I know indeed that I am being refined by my sickness, even though the task of cleansing the wicked has been assigned to me, or if there be some greater mystery to this suffering. For it is better to think this way than, being defiled with something, to harm myself with empty pride. But you, being most base, do not even recognize your disease. You ought to have shed many tears to God, that you might excise your disease before you die. For if your light is such as this, how great must be the darkness?

^A XXX. Concerning Himself. Many, very many things come to pass in the long life of mortals. But it is fitting to endure all things that God, who guides our life, may send. For I, as to the struggles which I formerly endured in a foreign city—offering my tongue as an ally to the crumbling faith—would praise anyone who spoke of them. 10 But many say, strangers and friends alike of that faith which I religiously worship. For nothing has ever so shaken the whole earth 15 as the liberty with which the Spirit is openly proclaimed as God: which fact has made me hated by my friends, this we know.

^B XXX. ARGUMENT. Having left Constantinople, where he had suffered many heavy tribulations in that city, Gregory, having returned to his homeland, as if into a calm harbor, encountered new storms. The Church of Nazianzus was still destitute of a pastor. He spared no labor or effort so that some pious man might be set over this Church: but very many stood in his way; some of whom, acting as friends, opposed him secretly, others openly. He grieves that the Church, cultivated by the labors of his father and his own, is being infected and devastated by heretics, namely the Eunomians and Apollinarists. He complains that certain neighboring bishops, while all things were being so greatly disturbed at Nazianzus, brought no help to the struggling Church, but offered themselves as idle spectators, nay, even took pleasure and pride in it. He warns them not to promise themselves perpetual security, and to think that the matter is their own, when the partition next door is burning. He foretells that there will some day be someone who will remember his words, when nothing else will remain but empty grief. Finally, he concludes the poem, not as Leuvenclaius says, with sharp admonition, but by addressing Christ, and professing that he will gladly admit all things, provided He remains kind to him.

^B XXX. CONCERNING HIMSELF. (Billius, translator.) Very many things indeed do most men draw along with them through the days of their lives: but it is fitting to endure what God, who guides our life, may send. For as for the struggles which I myself endured in a foreign land, while I busily aided the crumbling faith with my own words, I would praise anyone who sings of them. Many, I know, sing of them—as many as worship the right faith, as well as any foreigner. For there was never, I suppose, so great a shaking of the world as when the Spirit was openly declared to be holy God. And for that reason, the favor of my dear flock has forsaken me.

30. ON HIMSELF

^A And to you, Blessed One, I offer the greatest thanks for such a glorious ignominy. For what could be more honorable for a man to endure? What I found here, beyond all expectation, I myself shall tell to my friends, so that they may learn to bear the struggles of envy with an equable soul. God indeed brought forth a most beautiful word, insofar as He is God—that any prophet is thought worthy of honor only among strangers, but is usually held in no esteem by those who know him. I, however, have experienced this, and even more significantly. ^B For when I had come, having left behind the seat of a foreign land, and had gladly seen my fatherland and the sweet people, there immediately came to my mind the Ark, which alone escaped the deluge by which the world was justly and utterly destroyed. And because it had fallen away—for the true word had almost deserted it—my great father secretly saved it by the wood, establishing it as a pure worshiper of the entire Trinity.

Seeing it laboring in anarchy, like a ship in the depths, devoid of a helmsman and buffeted by a storm of the greatest evils, I wished—let everyone pelt me with stones, as I have been quite famously met by such rocks from of old—to draw it, I say, from the abyss by the hand of a governor whom I knew to be able to resist the winds most excellently, ^C even though he had recently accepted the office of the quaestorship. These were my desires; but envy, which is the adversary of good things, stood in the way of what had been so rightly decreed. In the first place, those who hold the second thrones ^D

^A of the people, the venerable senate, have shown themselves to us as not good. For who would have expected this? Some were held by a small remnant of modesty, 75 being double-bodied and two-colored, like certain tunics, outwardly toward us, but inwardly poorly knit, for whom even the grace of escaping notice, 80 as if they were mindless, was a desire. For manifest servitude is a worse thing than dishonor. But others were not secretly hostile, but quite manifest, 85 blushing if they seemed like evil men (among evil men), worshippers of the flesh and openly despisers of God, ^B serving Beelphegor instead of 90 Him who is the true Lord. Where is the mystical table? Let it judge rightly. Where is the bread, or where are the hands [a? which drew down the Spirit upon your heads? 95 Indulge in luxuries, you wicked men, and in the favor [which you turn into luxury]. I will not blame the people. For what is strange in this, that a people who have such leaders 100 should sin in such ways? For it is difficult for those who have [unwise] teachers to be good. But yet, I never taught you, O children, 105 (even if for a short time I held the foreign rein), ^C to despise the master's laws and words. These were still my strength, and to endure while suffering. For suffering the most 110 teaches one to bear [the teacher]. But that which wasted my heart most of all, 115 is that the wise bishops of the peoples cheated me, who in word were friends, and of my opinion,

^A even as being unswerving and friendly, ^B if these be torches and light, to the world set forth—[but wait] 145 things that are manifest to all and clear, so that the color at least of the former body might remain, though it is already relaxed ^C and has fallen miserably. If these things are pleasing to reason, teach me, O wise men. For to me they are not pleasing, and seem exceeding evil. 155 From thence, as if a wall or a stream had broken, the whole sower of evil and strange doctrines flowed in; ^D and there are new tablets 160 wickedly written. Those who my great God do not by just divisions cut—alas! the one excellence of all—165 placing [the first] above, and [the second] in the middle, and the third below. And they cut, as [they do] my God, also the great mortal of God, 170 putting him as mindless, as if an Adam mindless had fallen, [corresponding to] what was before the body of the Church. 152 *O wise men.* Here he touches upon the presbyters whom he had as adversaries at Nazianzus, whose wickedness had resulted in the Apollinarists overrunning the church of Nazianzus. 169 *Putting him as mindless.* The Apollinarists denied that a mind was assumed by Christ, because divinity would supply the place of that [mind], as the heretics believed.

METRICAL VERSION

^A ...lest I should fully obtain salvation through these sufferings, since I fear. For it is necessary that my skin alone 175 should obtain salvation, and that other worthless things should be ^B left to God. And this is also a second (I know not from whence, and who) Judaism, a thousand 180 years of nonsense, the miscarriages of Greek drunkenness and error: which even seize the fair flock, like grievous wolves 185 that have fallen upon them, and leave it without a shepherd; they steal and snatch it away into the pain of my soul; he, though I have received the feet 190 of another flock, yet I am afflicted with the grief of my father’s (flock). I see the dissolution of labors. And why not? And who, possessing a mind, 195 could endure this? For not just an oak, nor a stone reared me. I may be a liar and a scoundrel, yet I will speak the word. Nor are you yourself, I know, immune from the disease, 200 you who now are haughty toward my misfortunes, O dearest friend; even if you seem to yourself to stand safely 205 and opportunely. The fire is nearby, and the house of one's neighbor is untrustworthy. The cedar is shaken; the pine, in what way is it secure? Keep the battle far away, 210 if you do not desire it near. Some one will remember these words of mine sometime.

When nothing more ^A remains, than to be vexed in vain. Except that now a great wave of evils boils around me. What harsher thing will you bring, my Christ? And by what fire will you purge me further? I will accept all things readily, 220 provided that you are merciful. A little while, and I have passed beyond the roughness of life. And what things are there? Good things for me, even if they be very bad. 225 For there is no duality there; only simplicity exists.

XXXI. Longing for death.

XXXII. Concerning the vanity and faithlessness of life, and the common end of all.

XXXI. Longing for death

XXXII. On the vanity and uncertainty of this life, and the common end of all

[alt-version omitted]

^A To dwell alongside the wild beasts (for they are more faithful than mortals), and to drag out a short life, free from grief, free from exacting payment, free from care—possessing only this one thing distinct from the beasts: a mind that knows the Divinity and journeys to heaven, so that in a life of tranquility I might forever gather light. Or, having been raised up on some lofty aerial watchtower, I would cry out like thunder to all earth-dwellers:

10 "O mortal men, race of fluid seed, who are nothing, who live in death, and puff ourselves up in vain, how long, deluded by lies and by the dreams of a day, will you wander aimlessly upon the earth, deluding others? Consider with your own mind, as I do, traveling through all things—for God has made me a great observer of both good things and the wretched, and the mind is carried over all."

^A This man was flourishing and strong, the glory of his companions, ^B high-stepping, blossoming with vigorous limbs. ^C This one was handsome, a morning star, drawing 20 the eyes of all, the blossom of spring among men. This one was glorious in contests; this one was martial in his equipment; this one was the best of the hunters in the stadiums, stirring up strength in the mountains. This one, again, was occupied with festivities and banquets, feeding his belly from the earth, and the seas, and the air. 25 Now he is wrinkled and powerless (for all things have withered); old age has come on, and beauty has flown away; the things of the belly are dead. A little while longer he is among mortals; but the greater part is in Hades. This man, in turn, is breathing out many and varied stories; this man, high-born, is thinking of grand tombs, 30 or has obtained a newly written nobility upon small tablets.

^A This man is steadfast in counsel, greatest among the citizens, Acclaimed by the voices of the multitude; this man, having measureless Wealth, part of which he possesses, part of which he swells within his mind. This man takes pleasure in the scales of justice sitting in the high place. 35 This man, with blood-red raiment and the binding of the head, Possessing the power of the earth, yet despises heaven itself, A mortal, buoyed by hopes that are not mortal. Now these things, but a little later, dust, and all are alike, Servants, scepter-bearers, laborers, those flourishing in wealth; 40 One darkness, one house: by this much do the proud excel, Inasmuch as they happen upon more famous mourning and a tomb, And leave behind a name for the wretched to pity upon the stones; Late indeed, yet to all equally a mortal portion. ^B 44 All bones are weak, putrefying, naked skulls. 45 Arrogance has ceased. Labor has left poverty; the unseen disease, Hatred, recklessness, desire for more, unyielding insolence, All have died together with the departed, and all things are closed fast, Until, for those awaking, the accompaniment comes thence. Observing these things, then, be persuaded by my words, 50 My children (for you are children, in as much as I have drawn more spirit), Come, let us flee this whole world, and whatever wanders here, Having cast aside the evils of the earthly king, The plunderer of other men's goods, the harmful murderer, Wealth, fame, thrones, birth, uncertain opulence, 55 Let us flee headlong into heaven, where there are many...

^A Splendors shine around the thrice-holy, ineffable light. But the others, like dice, fall now here, now there, and take pleasure in the rattling of the dice; ^B 60 Or, having eyes suffused with thick darkness, they grope along walls and rush against one another.

XXXIII. To Christ

Alas, I am exhausted, O my Christ, the breath of mortals! Alas for the battle and the storm caused by my yoke-fellow! Alas for this long life and sojourn, and for the struggles within and without— 5 those through which the beauty of the image is corrupted! What oak bears such force of winds? What ship is battered by such waves? I undertook the care of my father's house against my will. 10 When I arrived, I saw it plundered. Friends bent me, and sickness wore me down. I was received with stones, as some other man is with flowers. I am deprived of the people whom the Spirit had set me over; and as for my children, some I have left, from others I have been separated, 15 and by others I have not been honored. O wretched father! My fellow-ministers are more hostile to me than my enemies, having no reverence for the mystical table, ^C nor—if nothing else—for the labors endured until now, which even the wicked are usually wont to honor; 20 nor do they care to remedy the indignities offered to my reputation, but they breathe only this: my disgrace.

METRICAL VERSION

Let us seek the empyrean seats and the eternal realms, where the light of the holy Trinity, more excellent than all speech, surrounds the brightest lights. The rest of the crowd of men, rolled about like dice, may fall hither and thither and grasp at baneful joys, or, with eyes enveloped in thick darkness, seek their path and grope against the walls, bereft of light.

XXXIII. TO CHRIST

Alas, our shattered strength has failed, O my Christ! Alas what storms my body stirs up for me! Alas how far my sojourn has stretched! What inner and what outer struggles I suffer, whereby the one who is above them loses his own honor! ^D Can an oak ever endure such winds? Has any ship ever endured so many waves? Exhausted by labor, I languish in business. I undertook the care of the paternal house unwillingly. As soon as I entered it, I saw it lost. Friends have bent me, and a severe illness has afflicted me. I have been attacked with stones, poor wretch, as if with flowers. I lack this people, whom the Spirit gave to me. I have left my children, or have been left by them, or have been spurned by them. O most wretched father! The prelates are more hostile than enemies, who neither fear the mystical table nor those many labors that I have hitherto endured, which they even often mock, though they be the worst of men. They do not care at all to heal the bad reputation; but they breathe only one thing: my disgrace.

^C XXXIV. On the silence of the fast.

Comprime me, lingua chara; ^D tu vero, calame, Conscribe silentii verba, et loquere oculis Cordis consilia. Cum carnem adstrinxi, Dei mortalibus cruciatibus Mysticum agens sacrificium, ut morerer huic vitæ, Diebus quadraginta, ex lege Christi regis, Cum purgatis corporibus accedit medicina. Primo quidem quiete mentem firmavi, Solus a cæteris hominibus habitans, Dolorum nube amictus, Intra totus collectus, mente immotus: Deinde vero virorum piorum præceptis obsequens, Labris fores opposui. Hæc autem fuit causa, ut discerem Verbis modum imponere, ab omnibus me abstinens. Etenim qui contra plures homines furentem vibraverit Hastam, pauciores facile superabit, Et qui celerem sagittam procul mittens scopum attigerit, Nunquam a scopo aberrabit collimans propius. Navem autem mare secantem, cum magna æquora trajecerit, Impellet quis confidenter in parvos portus. Nam qui parva superat, incertum est an magna Sit superaturus, etiamsi vehementer cupiat:

XXXIV. ON THE SILENCE OF THE FAST

Be still, dear tongue; but you, my pen, record The words of silence, and speak with the eyes The counsels of the heart. When I bound my flesh, Performing a mystic sacrifice to the mortal Sufferings of God, that I might die to this life, For forty days, by the law of Christ the King, When medicine comes to cleansed bodies, First indeed I steadied my mind in quiet, Living alone apart from other men, Clothed in a cloud of sorrows, Gathered entirely within, unmoved in mind: But then, obeying the precepts of holy men, I set doors upon my lips. And this was the cause, that I might learn To put a measure upon words, abstaining from all. For he who, having brandished a raging spear Against many men, shall easily overcome the fewer, And he who, sending a swift arrow from afar, Has hit the mark, will never miss the goal when aiming closer. And a ship cleaving the sea, when it has crossed The great waters, one will steer confidently into small harbors. For he who overcomes small things, it is uncertain whether He will overcome great ones, even if he vehemently desires it.

[alt-version omitted]

XXXIV. ON THE SILENCE OF THE FAST

Tongue, be silent; but you, my pen, write on the tablets The mute voice, and with the eyes of the mind sing your inner thoughts. When I constrained the flesh, desiring to perish to the world, I brought mystic sacrifices with the torments of Christ, Forty days, as the mandates of Christ prescribe; When medicine comes for the purged flesh: This I first studied, to stabilize the mind with quiet, Living alone, and with the sorrow of the mind, through the days, Bringing the whole mind within and constraining it: ^B But afterwards, that I might follow the holy dogmas of men, I set a gate upon my mouth. If you ask the cause, it is so that in every Part being silent, I might learn to hold a measure in speech. For whoever has laid low many enemies with the sword, He shall not have shed a small band of the weary: And whoever strikes the mark from afar, never Does his arrow, sent in vain, fly closer; Finally, the sailor who has steered through spacious seas, Will not fear to lead the boat through small straits. For if one overcomes small things, it is not certain that he is able To conquer greater ones, even if he himself wishes it.

^A For he who excels in great things, it is manifest, will easily Excel in small ones, should he so wish. Therefore, I have altogether restrained the force of my speech. For I hoped That my utterance would no longer overflow from my mouth. There is nothing surely more ruinous to mortals than the tongue; It is a horse that always runs ahead, a weapon most ready. Who sees all things? But hands hold what is at one’s feet, Being very few, and feet have not traveled the whole earth. There is labor for murderers, while adulterers tremble At their own frenzy; for thieves, the day is most detestable. Wealth is not without labor: I hold one part, I have lost another, Clasping as much as one might grasp of flowing water in his hand. For those traveling by ship or by land, robbers loom; another is insatiable, Casting bitter eyes upon the possessions of others. ^B Such are all the hardships that beset those who love gold; Labor is for the base, labor is for the excellent. And nothing restrained the tongue when it hastened toward speech, No mortal, no snow, no torrent, no cliff. The archer is near; and upon the bow is the bitter arrow: The cord brings the circle round, the finger in the notch. The mind has sent forth weapons; they flew, and they strike everything, Celestial beings, earthly, those living, those yet to be, As many as think of it, and those who do not, alike, The good and the evil, the hostile and the friendly, Those far away, and those near at hand; there is nothing out of range for the dart. And whoever masters this, he takes the first prize of wisdom. It belches forth many shameful things for the wanton, so that, Being ridiculous himself, he may stir up a wanton laugh in others. [alt-version omitted]

49 Agitated and agitating, and dishonoring the divine image. 50 Many things, too, which ought to be kept silent, it vomits into ears. 51 Often again, it scatters abroad the wild foam of evil-smelling bile, and every kind of reviling. 53 Often, in turn, it bears benevolence in its heart within, while another thing it carries on its lips from a different heart, 55 and lies, and flattering words, and murders. Who could recount all the evils that flow from it? 57 It makes house hostile to house, city to city—straightway, and with no labor, the tongue! 59 It sets the people against the ruler, and the king against his subjects, 60 as a spark in stubble suddenly fanned. 61 It has armed fellow-voyager, son, father, brother, friend, loved one, spouse—all against one another easily. 63 It has made the wicked one good, and destroyed the good one in return, and has reversed this again; who can recount how many things speech [can do]? 65 Small indeed is the tongue, yet no one has such great strength. 66 Would that it perished at once for those who speak unrighteously! 67 To all foolish people the tongue is indeed a bane, 68 but especially to the ministers of heaven’s sacrifice. 69 I am an instrument of God, and with well-modulated strains 70 I bring a hymn to the King, before whom all things tremble. 71 I sing not of Troy, nor as some do of the fair-sailing Argo, 72 nor of the boar’s head, nor the great Heracles, 73 nor how the wide circles of the earth are fitted to the seas, 74 nor the radiance of stones, nor the course of the stars; 75 nor do I sing of the madness of desires, and the beauty of youths 76 for whom the lyre was softly struck by those of old.

[alt-version omitted]

^A I sing of the high-throned, great God, and of the radiance of my thrice-shining Trinity, and of the great, resounding hymns of the angelic choirs 80 who stand near, and vie with one another to celebrate God with their voices; I sing also of the harmony of the world, and of the better world to come, which I await, when all things hasten to one end. I sing of the immortal glory of Christ's sufferings, by which He deified me, blending my human form with the heavenly. 85 I sing of my own mixture; for it is not a thing to be told, how I was fashioned, how a mortal was woven together with heavenly beings. I sing to men of the law of God, and of all the deeds of the world, and of its counsels, and of the end of both; so that you may hide the former in your heart, and from the latter flee to a distance, 90 and dread the day that is coming. I possess a tongue and a lyre for such things; understand, O priests, lest you play anything discordant from the harmony. I shall keep my tongue pure for pure sacrifices, with which I bring the great King to the mortals of earth. 95 For I will not send up a life-giving sacrifice to the most pure God with an alien tongue or a polluted mind. A single spring does not send forth both sweet water and bitter, and mud is alien to a garment of purple. And elsewhere, a strange fire destroyed the 100 sons of the priest, because they did not touch the sacrifice with purity. And I have heard that once the holy ark of the great God killed the man who touched it when it tilted. I fear these things mightily, and I tremble, lest I suffer some harm 104 if I touch the pure Trinity with impurity. 105 Would that my mind, too, were not wandering recklessly, this way and that, in many aimless paths.

[alt-version omitted]

^A To turn closer to the goal with a tightening rein, and to keep it entirely unpilfered ^B within my heart—would that it might, rather, by driving closer to Christ of great renown, 110 shine with the glimmers of the great light! For as it is, it does not achieve so much evil while remaining within, even if it happens to wander a little way far from God; for it is not as if, when enclosed by solid rocks, 115 a flame of fire or a surge of water should gurgle within, or lay waste to a thick grove, or some orchard; rather, it lives half-dead, lurking within. But when discourse, in turn, having issued forth from a multi-echoing tongue, ^C is at a loss, it rages uncontrollably, no longer running back. Just as when someone, with their hands, 120 little by little bends back the form of a crooked shoot and leads it into a reverse circle, no longer leaning toward its former vice: ^D just so did I also, catching sight of the rush of the swiftly-running discourse outside of measure and rule (for my life, too, had been in discourse, since it was the Word), find an excellent 125 remedy; I held it all within my high-minded heart, so that the tongue might learn what is to be shown and what is not to be said. It received total silence; it will receive fair speech. I deprived it of all utterance; it will no longer disdain moderation. 130 Let this law be established forever for those who speak without measure. It is a great help, indeed, if you curb a discourse that is erupting, when your heart is agitated externally. By a discourse repressed, the swelling of wrath is repressed along with it; not, indeed, easily, but yet you will repress it.

For if you compress it when it is swelling and wildly raging, you will dissipate the vice itself. Once the leader—the passion—is extinguished, the rank and file of perturbations will yield, and thus you will find respite from a grievous storm. ^A All these things are accomplished by the guidance of Christ, the great King, and then by the rudder of our own mind; for if you do not have this as a guide, there is no profit in silence, nor in any greater abstinence. Just as if you were to cover the narrow mouth of a pond with your hands and then open it again, the water will burst forth and flow out all at once. ^B But the most radiant Word commands you, my best friend, having begun from this point, to restrain the flood of all vices. These are the meditations of my silence, my dearest friend; I speak with the pen, which receives the thoughts of the mind. This is my voyage: do you enter upon another voyage; may one person make for port with a different wind. ^C But come, hear another reason for my silence, you who bear a hostile spirit, and you who bear a friendly one. There was a time when I excelled most among my peers, and Christ the King led me against the adversary, as I held in my mind a faith firmer than adamant, and was fenced about on all sides with strong armor. I rendered my mind pure ^D with divine oracles, drawing the Spirit from the sacred Scriptures; by which, before the books, I spat out the bitter brine, the beauty shining in counterfeit colors. Indeed, I wore down my own flesh, which was seething while it flourished in youth, with many and frequent labors.

METRICAL VERSION

For you, if you restrain the swollen tongue and the one raging with a mad impulse, the troublesome anger will lapse. With the leader quenched, the heavy wrath takes flight; and quickly, with the waves composed, the water falls silent. These things indeed require the guidance and help of Christ; they require also the rudder of the mind to hold them in check. For unless he is the guide, neither do silent lips, nor the harshness of life have any utility. And if you close the mouth of the marsh with a narrow hand, and open it again, it will straightway flow. But from here, good man, the most radiant Word commands you to begin to check the tide of every vice. The reason why my tongue is silent, my dearest friend, I have explained to you: and I speak with a hand that holds the breast.

This is my course, a course different from yours, and another, struck by a different wind, seeks the faithful shore. Come now, hear another reason why I myself am silent, O company dear to me, and hostile. My youthful limbs once flourished with strength, and the Omnipotent gave me to the battle against the enemy, bearing in my heart a faith more firm than adamant, and equipped on all sides with most powerful arms. I cleansed my soul with holy discourses, having drunk in the Spirit, while I turned the sacred writings with my hand: by whose aid, I vomited forth the brine that was in the profane books, and the fictitious grace of form, and even my seething body, while youth flourished, I subdued and crushed with many a labor.

^A Having restrained the vice of gluttony and its neighboring madness, I fixed my gaze upon temperance. I bridled my anger, bound my limbs, and wept away my laughter. All things yielded to the Word: all my former ways died. The earth was my bed; a rough garment was the medicine for my flesh; I applied the remedy of vigils; the earth was soaked with my tears. Throughout the day I tamed my body, while by night I was fixed in hymns, and stood like a column, admitting no human pleasure into my mind. These things were in the past; for the flesh then seethed, which is concerned with blocking a great man from his heavenly ascent, and I cast away the heavy burden of my possessions, so that I might be borne light, having shaken off every load, toward God. ^B But now, when a bitter disease holds me and old age bows me ^C I have come into this other hardship, having a tongue that is untamed, ready for speech, which handed me over to the hands of the envious for such great evils. I have not seized upon anyone's seat, nor have I driven anyone from their fatherland, nor did I contrive deceit. I have not sent forth a tongue of insults, nor have I committed anything unworthy of our sacrifices: Christ the Word knows this. I have harmed neither a ruler nor anyone else, since I am angry with all the leaders of the peoples, of whom such things are bruited about, ^D of which now the whole sea and the wide borders of the earth are full; this sears a bitter grief into my breast. But an unbridled word has harmed me; I did not indeed foresee this beforehand, but it harmed me nonetheless. It kindled against me the envy of all my friends. O envy, receive from me also something. Restrain yourself, dear tongue, ^A possessed of an adamantine, babbling power, which with such great evils delivered me to the hands of the envious. I never ran for anyone's throne, nor did I dissemble from my ancestral soil, nor did I devise a snare. I did not let loose a vituperative tongue, nor did I perform any deed forbidden to our rites; the Word knows this. I did not aim at a goal, nor at another, since I am indignant at all the leaders of the peoples who are acclaimed thus, of which now the whole sea and the wide borders of the earth are full; this is the dark grief of my heart. But a reckless word has aggrieved me; I did not think of this beforehand, indeed, but it aggrieved me nonetheless. It rendered me an object of envy to all my friends. O envy, do you also take something from me. Restrain yourself, dear tongue. ^B

METRICAL VERSION

Gluttony is suppressed for me, and its neighbor, madness; My chaste love has fixed my eyes upon temperance. I broke my anger, bound my limbs, and lamented my laughter. All things are dead that were dear to me before. The ground was my bed, the pain of my flanks, a rough garment was my clothing; And a shower falling from my face drove away sleep. I labored by day, and by night I sang divine Praises, bearing limbs that knew not pleasure. This was in the past; for my depraved flesh was seething, which hinders The mind while it strives to go to the mansions above. Nay, I also cast away the mass of my wealth, so that my mind, Lightened with all its weight, might hasten with quick step to the stars. But now, when I am tormented by disease and sad old age, I bear another kind of miserable fate. Envy afflicts me with numberless evils. I leaped into no man's throne, nor from his land Did I cast anyone out; nor was fraud practiced by me. I have attacked no one with a biting, viperous tooth. Nor have I done anything that our sacred rights forbid. I have not harmed a shepherd, nor anyone from the flock; For I even burn against the leaders of the people, Of whom rumor boasts such things, with whom the earth is full, And the sea, and the shores that I wet with my weeping. But an evil word was my undoing; I did not think It before, but it was so nevertheless. For it brought upon me the envy of my dear company. Envy, receive this from me. Tongue, be silent;

Briefly restrain yourself, O tongue; for I shall not keep you bound forever. ^A And not so much shall the hater of words get from me. I have learned how a certain king of the Samians, in order to appease envy, fearing the course of good fortune, devised such a remedy: the paternal ring, which he loved, he cast into the sea. A fish caught it, and he tied it in a net. The fisherman gave the fish to the king, and he gave the catch to his servant; but the ring was in the vitals of the fish. The belly received the fish, but the hand received the ring. 200 A great marvel; yet not even thus did he find the suffering he sought. So too with me: for because a fierce envy forever turns its eye toward my discourse, I have pulled over myself the depth of silence. So much is the profit for me from the Samian; but as for tomorrow, I do not know clearly whether you shall encounter a bad or a good end. ^{B C} And from [those] bitter tongues, having emitted [these words], may you lead me to your radiance: where, honoring you with the ever-living lights, I might sing from my lips a harmonious sound. Receive also these sounds of my hand, as a speaking monument of our silence, as you may have it.

210

XXXV. Another.

Briefly restrain yourself, O tongue; for I shall not keep you bound forever. ^B And not so much shall the hater of words get from me [the source of bitter things]. ^C O but restrain envy, the scourge of mortals, and from me, the hater of words shall not gain so much from my side. I heard that a certain king of the Samians, that he might appease envy, fearing his own success, contrived such a remedy. 195 A ring, which he loved, he cast into the sea owned by his fathers; the fish that received it, he secured within a net; the fisherman gave it to the king, and he gave his catch to his attendant; but the ring was in the flank of the fish. The belly received the fish, but the hand [received] the ring. 200 A great wonder; nor, wishing it, did he find that suffering. So also I; for because envy always directs its savage eye against my words, I have drawn upon myself the depth of silence. So much for me from the Samian; but this, for tomorrow, I do not know for certain, whether you will encounter a bad or a good end.

Walls, gates, bars, enclose me, lest some thieving word or way of life, creeping in, steal away any of my treasures, or a tyrant seize them with violent hand. 5 God is my treasure, and the fear of God, [and] leading me to your bright dwellings, O God. Here, where with the holy and ever-radiant throng, I may joyfully bring forth festive sounds from my mouth. Receive these, which my hand gave to you in silence, that you might have a not-silent monument of a silent voice.

XXXV. ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

^A And hope that lightens sorrows; For many, many evils have struck me, beyond what I deserve, And they will tear me further, Unless you command the monkeys to be quiet. 10 Although I suffer terrible things, and beyond terrible, This one thing I fear, lest among many evils I might become worse; for this also harms the mind.

XXXVI. Another

XXXVII. Another

XXXVI. METRICAL VERSION

^B Sate yourselves, O curious ones, O envious ones. I shall speak within, fashioning my mind with the mysteries of God, And by cleansing the filth and wandering senses, I shall offer the brightness of the mirror to the Word of God, Until it receives faithful images. These are the letters of silence. If you, O highest Mind, do not want me to speak to many, what am I now to do?

XXXVII. METRICAL VERSION

^A For why, foolish one, though you are darkened By a grievous malady, have you stirred up such great fame? Do you not know how great is the power of the ignorant, To whom boldness and wickedness are closely akin? 10 Dance, run well, whoever you are profane. Throw your stones, shoot your arrows at those who are not shielded. Deep silence; Gregory is far away.

XXXVIII. Hymn to Christ after the silence, at Easter.

Christ, King, to you first, since I have given a word to the air Having held it long, I shall speak forth from my lips, The holy sacrifice of a most holy priest, if it is permissible to say, Pouring forth this word from my own mind. 5 Father-Light, Word of the great mind, bringer of the tale, ^B Light most high of the highest light, Only-begotten, Icon of the immortal Father, and seal of the Beginningless, Shining together with the great Spirit, wide-ruling, Boundary of the age, of great glory, giver of blessings, 10 High-throned, heavenly, all-powerful, breath of the mind, Governor of the world, bearer of life, Creator Of things that are and things that shall be. For to you all things belong, You who, having bound the foundations of the world and all that is, Carry them by your nod, immutably. 15 To you, O King, the high-coursing sun obscures the stars, Rising above the fiery circle, as you do the new ones. For you, the eye of night, the moon, lives and wanes in turns, Coming round again, full-shining.

^A And the life-bearing circle and the measures of your dance, 20 Bring for the seasons measures mingled gently. The fixed and wandering stars, darting in cycles, Are the discourse of your holy wisdom. All those who are the heavenly minds, are your light, ^B Who sing the glory of the heavenly Trinity. 25 For man is your glory, whom you have set here as an angel, A herald of your, O brightest, splendor. O immortal to me, and mortal, reborn, incorporeal height, Lasting bearer of flesh for the sufferings of mortals, For you I live, for you I speak, and for you I am a breathing sacrifice, 30 Which alone is left of my possessions. For you I have bound my tongue, and for you I have opened my ears to the word; I beseech you, grant that I may do both holily. I shall speak what is fitting; what is unlawful, I shall not even think. I will pour out the pearl, pushing away the mire, 35 Picking the wheat from the ears of corn, leaving behind the straw. These are the first-fruits of my labor for you, Christ, Which my tongue, pouring forth, has first kindled into song.

On the Passion and Resurrection of Christ

40 Today the great Christ from the dead, with whom he was mingled, Has arisen, and scattered the sting of death, And broken the dark gates of the joyless underworld, And given freedom to souls. Today, leaping from the tomb, he appeared to mortals, To whom he was born, for whom he died, for whom he rose from the dead, 45 That we, being reborn and having fled from death, Might be raised up along with you, as you ascend from there.

^A Today a great and luminous choir dances around you, Angelic, singing a crowning hymn. Today I breathed out a sound, having 50 Loosed lips long closed in silence; But now you have me as a cithara to celebrate your praises. Mind to mind I have offered within, Word to the Word; but hereafter I shall offer sacrifice also to the great Spirit, if He so wills.

XXXIX. On his own verses

Seeing many in the present life writing Words without measure, flowing easily, ^B And wearing themselves out with much labor over a long time, Of which the only fruit is empty babbling— But writing them even with great tyranny, 5 So that everything is full of foolishness, Like the sand of the seas or the lice of the Egyptians— I would most gladly have given this single counsel, That, casting aside every [other] word, 10 They should cling to the God-breathed Scriptures alone, Just as those who flee the storm seek calm harbors. For if the Scriptures have provided so many Starting points, then, Spirit, this is wiser for you, In that this is the very launching-ground 15 Of idle speech for those who set out poorly. When, I pray, will you write, extending your words Without dispute to the earthly thoughts below? Since this is entirely impossible, The world having been torn into so many divisions, 20 And all having [their own] foundation for their deviation.

METRICAL VERSION

XXXIX. ON HIS OWN VERSES

having these discourses as allies, I pursued this other road of discourse—if indeed it is a good one, or if not, it is dear to me—that I might bestow some of my labors into meters. 25 Not, as many of mortals might suppose, in order to reap a vain glory from the easiest of tasks, as the saying goes. On the contrary, I know those who nibble at my work, writing in such a way, that I do this more to please men; for the majority 30 measure the deeds of their neighbors by their own measures. Not that I prefer this to divine labors—may the Word of God not fall from me to such a degree! What, then, have I suffered? This perhaps you will wonder at. First, I wanted, being weary of other things, ^A 35 to curb my own lack of measure in this way—so that if I should write, I might not write much, labored by the measure. Second, for the young, and for those who especially delight in discourses, I wished to provide this as a kind of pleasant remedy, 40 attracting them by persuasion to more useful things, sweetening with art the bitterness of the commandments. For the string often likes to be relaxed in its tension; if you also wish for this—if nothing more—instead of songs and lyre-music, these will be for you. 45 I have granted you to play, if you wish to play at all, lest any harm befall you while you are being plundered of what is good. A third thing I know I have suffered; a matter perhaps ^B small in appearance, but yet I have suffered it; nor in discourses

^A of a flowery and colored kind do I concede that the faithless possess more than we — I speak of that ornate and flowery style, although we possess the grace of language in spiritual understanding. To you, therefore, as wise men, I have played; for us, let there be the grace of a lion. A fourth thing I discovered, tasked by my infirmity: this consolation, like an aged swan, to converse with myself in the whistling of wings—not a mournful song, but a hymn of departure. In these things now, O wise men, come to know our inner thoughts. But if you are overcome by the very words, 60 consider it a great matter; and as for these playful discourses, proceed; for there is nothing long, nor anything beyond what is sufficient, ^B nor, as I fully judge, anything useless. The words themselves will teach you, even if you are unwilling. For some things are mine, while others are from without: 65 either the praise of good men, or the censure of the bad, or doctrines, or some opinion, or sections of discourses, having a memory in the binding of the letter. If these are small, you fulfill the greater ones. You blame the meter—naturally, being an iambic-maker without measure yourself, writing down abortions. 70 For who, not seeing, has recognized one who sees? Or who, not running, has run along with one who runs? Yet you have not escaped notice in desiring what you censure. For that which you blame is exactly what you are busy with—

^A 75 And quite unmeasuredly, to write poems. But when you are corrected, faith comes in turn, And our most beloved "prose-man" suffers shipwreck. Such things you contrive, you wise men! Is this not a manifest lie, not a double-dealing? 80 To us, now a monkey, but now a lion. Thus is the desire for glory easily captured. But know that there are many things in the Scriptures measured out, As the wise men of the Hebrew race say. Unless, for you, even the striking of the lyre-strings is no measure, 85 As they sang of old in tuneful words, Taking, I suppose, the pleasant as a vehicle for the good, And molding habits from the melodies. May Saul persuade you of this, as he was freed From the evil spirit by the rhythms of the harp.

^A 90 What harm is it to you, for young people, through pleasant And holy enjoyment, to be led toward communion with God? For they do not bear a sudden change. For now, let there be a more noble mingling; But when the good has taken hold in time, 95 Having pulled away, like the scaffolding of arches, The elegance, we shall preserve the good itself. What could be more useful than this? But do *you* not season your food with sweetness, O rigid man, with your proud and drawn-in brows? 100 Why then do you find fault with my metrical skill, Weighing the affairs of others by your own measures? Separate are the boundaries of the Mysians and Phrygians; Separate the heights of the jackdaws and the eagles.

XL. To the Envious

^A Justice, judges, and laws, and tribunals, And you, O sword flashing against the wicked, And the day of sorrow, the judge of all things, The worm that never sleeps, the fountains of all-consuming fire, 5 Hear us, judges, hear! With all who die, even envy is buried. For the struggle is against that which resists; but what is far removed, Does not resist, and is held in high esteem. Yet I am dead, and still I am envied, 10 I who have endured every struggle in life. How do I prove this, and by what proofs? Everyone shouts, even if I should seal my lips. Oh, would that my misfortune were speechless! ^A The basest of evils—so that I might not defile 15 My tongue by mentioning such a name in speech— That beast, full of envy, A terrible and frightening workshop, A brief pillar of all the evils that exist, Which should not even approach the divine doors: 20 They have preferred [to me] my purifications, and the labors of this grey hair, My stone-throwings, and my atonements. Woe is me! What wise man would praise these things? O You who dwell in the secret places of my heart! O You who order all things, and lead us to another life! 25 Have these men placed me second to the wicked? And could the wicked stand forth from there? They shield one another in wickedness.

gazing only at one thing, the security of thrones. But I would have the portion which I deserve. 50 If there is no one here, you, my Christ, are my portion, whom it is better to possess than all the goods of all men. This alone is firm and free among all possessions; from this no envy shall cast us out.

XLI. Against Maximus

What are these things? Do you, too, Maximus, dare to write? Do you dare to write? What great impudence! This is indeed greater than that of the other dogs. Everyone dares everything. O turn of the times! 5 As mushrooms do, we see suddenly emerging skilled generals and noble bishops, having undergone no previous labors, so that they might be worthy of such honor. From this what happens? Virtue is diminished, showing forth nothing more than a rustic 10 boldness, wickedly obtained without any effort, if one should pour forth a few small words. Let someone jump, though unlearned, let him shoot arrows, let him be borne aloft on wings to the clouds. Here it is enough to wish; knowledge is nowhere required. 15 Have you, too, been suddenly inspired by the Muses, as some of the ancient sages are said to have been? Has some laurel branch maddened you as well? Or have you suddenly drunk of the prophetic waters, and then spouted out measures, being yourself unmeasured? 20 O what incredible and unheard-of things! ^A Nothing having been labored for to attain the portion of the beautiful. From whence does this come about? Virtue is curtailed, bringing no fruit beyond a rustic 10 boldness that has unworthily seized its reward, if one should glean a few small remarks. Let someone jump, though unlearned, let him shoot, let him be carried aloft into the clouds. It is enough to wish, it is nowhere required to know. 15 Has some branch of laurel suddenly maddened you in turn, as is said of some of the wise men of old? Perhaps you have suddenly drunk of the prophetic waters, and then produced verses, though you are yourself without measure? 20 O these incredible and novel reports! ^B Learned generals, bishops, who have contributed no labor to their glory. But what has come of this? The honor of virtue is less, which has nothing more than a rustic boldness, having wickedly attained its force: if one should utter a few small words. Whoever dances though not learned, directs an arc, is borne on wings to the sublime clouds. Here to wish is enough, knowledge has no place. Now, indeed, you, suddenly inspired by the Muses, come to us: as they proclaim some to have been clever of old, or has the laurel made you insane? Have you bathed in the prophetic waters? And since you are unversed, you pour forth rhythms, incredible, absurd things to the ears.

POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

^A Saul a prophet, Maximus a writer of compositions! Who is not a prophet? Who shall restrain his hand? Paper is for all, and the stylus is even for old women. To speak, to write, to gather together theaters, to rouse applause—you fear nothing in this at all. 25 Short are the wise among those who hear; but many are the Maximi and the senseless. To please these, and to let wise men go, those who are polished and collected—let the wise themselves laugh at these. But if there is a need to defend oneself, they are bold in all things. He holds boldness against the wise. ^B Let them know Maximus from his outspokenness. And to us, there is authority to laugh. What is better for this present moment than to laugh and to laugh heartily? Be a rhetorician truly, but a dog to those who abuse you. Thus it shall come about that you will not be overcome by anyone. I will shout again, O words, and often! Thus I will empty myself of passion, even if but a little. You dare to write? Tell me, whence and from whom did you learn? And whose hand’s work is this writing? But it was not so yesterday. You were content, if your white tunic provided you a narrow loaf of bread, and the dog-like madness of life and character. 45 Your discourses then were to you as a lyre to an ass, and waves to oxen, and a yoke to sea-creatures. But now you are for us an Orpheus, setting all in motion with your fingers, or an Amphion building walls with your music. Such are dogs when they indulge in luxuries. Or did old hags instill this boldness in you, 50 your accomplices, and fellow-players in these discourses?

Of whom you are the swan, to whom you pipe forth a melodic song, When they flow, as the West wind, upon your wings, Expanded willingly in gentle breezes? But you write—and tell me, why? And against whom, you dog? 55 You write against a man whose nature it is to write, Just as it is for water to flow, and for fire to give warmth. I pass over saying, against a man who has done you no wrong, As far as you are concerned, and who has been most insulted. Alas for the folly! Alas for the untaught boldness! 60 You call a horse, most excellent one, to a level course: You prick a lion with a most feeble hand. Yet if we suppose you have considered this one thing, That not even as an insulter would you be deemed worthy of an answer, In this one thing, at least, you seem wise to me. ^A 65 For who, being in his right mind, would join battle with a dog?

XLII. He laments his own troubles, and beseeches Christ that He may bring an end to his life.

Beloved earth, and Pontus, soil of my fatherland and of foreign lands, And youth, and the hoary sunset of my life, and winged Tales, and excess of toil, and those whom the bright Spirit has brought forth, And cities, and cliffs, my covering, through all of which 5 I have come, yearning to draw near to the divinity of Christ, How, alone, have I trodden a rough path hither and thither, Turning the pattern of a grievous life, and I have not been able Not even for one moment to plant a light footprint upon the earth, But always do troubles send me on into grievous troubles?

^A O Wisdom, do Thou teach me whence comes so great a burden to me. How comes labor to the pious, and no labor at all to those who perish? Is this some sort of punishment for sin, or is it a trial of life, like gold being purged in a furnace? Or does the raging and envious one summon me to combat, as he did once to Job? Yet Thou, having first anointed me with Thine oil as Thy wrestler, and having stripped me for the great struggle beforehand, dost grant the prize and glory to me as I contend? ^B These things, O King Word, Thou Thyself knowest. For Thou guidest the whole world, turning it with Thy great and hidden reasons, ^C of which only a tiny glimmer reaches us, who still drag about the clay and carry dull eyes. But I have grown weary of life, and possess only a small breath upon the earth, being agitated by many evils, from enemies, and—what is far more grievous—from friends. Therefore I groan, and fall at Thy knees. Grant release of life to Thy dead one. Grant a breathing space from labor, and lead me into a more tranquil life, for the sake of which I grieve and have endured countless anxieties. Mayest Thou, leading the traveler, bring me to the angelic choirs ^D of the heavenly gate, where the glory of the one great God flashes forth in threefold lightnings.

XLIII. To Himself by Question and Answer.

^A Where is the strength of my well-knit limbs? A disease has bowed it down. Where are my possessions and my wealth? God holds them. But others, the envious, have consigned the rest to rapacious hands. And my parents, the sacred pair of my brothers? They have gone to the grave. My homeland alone remained to me, but even from that, the envious demon, stirring up grievous storms, has driven me. And now, a stranger, solitary, I wander in a foreign land, 10 bearing a life of grief and a frail old age, without a throne, without a city, without children—though I yet have cares for my spiritual sons—living from day to day with ever-wandering feet. Whither shall I cast this body? What end shall meet me? What land, what hospitable tomb shall cover me? 15 Who shall place his fingers upon my dying eyes? Whether one of the pious, a friend of Christ, or some wicked man? Let these things be carried off by the wind. For it is a small-minded care, whether one shall commit my body, an inanimate burden, to a tomb, or whether it shall become a prey unburied for the beasts— 20 for the beasts, or for dogs, or carrion for the birds! Or if thou wilt, scatter it in the air with thy hands, having burned it with fire, or cast it unburied against great crags, or let it rot in rivers or in the crashing of the rains. For I shall not be the only one unknown and ungathered. 25 Would that it were so! For many, this would be better. But at the last day, the end brings all together from the ends of the earth by divine nod, even if someone should be but ash, or limbs perished by disease. Yet one thing I lament, and I fear the step toward God, ^B and the tribunal of the Lord, as I turn it over in my mind.

^A And rivers of fire, and lightless, terrible abysses. 30 O Christ my King, You are to me fatherland, strength, wealth, all things. In You would I find rest, having exchanged this life and its troubles. ^B

XLIV. Against those who slander the monks, and against those who feign the monastic life.

Lately, someone of the foolish, who preen themselves in their arrogance, claimed that I lived in luxury, being wealthy and high-minded; and saying many other things, and that I am rich because I have a garden, and leisure, and a modest spring. 5 "But tears," I said, "do you pass over in silence, you wretch, and the bridle of the stomach, and the wounds of the knees, and the loss of sleep, by which, ^C truly, the monks mortify their bodies? For the uninstructed we cast to the crows. What sort of struggles, pray, do you think the soul endures, fighting against the body and sitting in opposition to the world? What do the monks say? Listen, O lovers of the world, you who lift up a great, but short-lived, eyebrow: 'Possess, be wealthy; marriage, children, all things pleasant 15 are yours, whether earth or sea yields them. But if we have a fountain, or a little garden, or a small breeze, or shade from trees, the lightest of possessions, do you then call this luxury? Or is it not permitted for Christians even to breathe? Is this the only thing you reckon an injury?' ^D

^A Let no one care any longer for the plow, nor for the mattock, ^B nor let him pay tribute, nor support his parents. Let your beard be thick, and your garment sackcloth, and while wearing down your neck, set forth new dogmas. And if you speak in solecisms, and stone everyone together, you are an Angel; for hairs are not without some small power. If anyone now leads an impure life, or is greedy, or has blood-stained hands, or a great legion [of demons], let him not cleanse himself by the wasting of his limbs, nor by tears, nor by labors—for these things are all a fable! But let him turn over books, and having gathered together all [manner of] terms, let him be a founder of a heresy: by this very thing his wickedness is wiped away. ^C

METRICAL VERSION

Are you injured only here? The law is one for all, and one the God: Christ calls all alike up to the stars. But you force us to the height of virtue, as if Our company owed nothing to mankind. But if to Christ—He knows it: nor, since you yourself are More wicked, are you worthy to be the censor of my iniquity. How mournful and pale this man is! Neither shoe has he, Nor does his groomed hair shine, and hardly does his mouth give voice. And as the belt compresses the tunic, and the dark Garment hangs in order down to the ankles! If these things be for the sake of faith, the whole life is a test; But if for the sake of reputation, let another praise them. ^D Let no one now till the earth, nor handle the mattock: Let no one pay tribute, nor support his fathers. Let your beard be long, and yours be the sackcloth for covering: And wearing down the neck, compose new dogmas. But if you breathe out savagery, and provoke them all, You are an Angel: only a beard and hair can do this. If anyone now is of impure morals, or avaricious, Or a murderer, or the house of an evil demon: Let him not cleanse himself by tears, nor by fasts, Nor by sweats: for that is ridiculous. But turning over the lives [of others], and revolving all words, Let him sow false dogmas; thus may wickedness fall.

To afflict the flesh, obese in every state, is most useful, With prayers, fastings, cares, and vigils. For it is expected that he who is pure becomes purer, And he who is evil, melts away some part of his wickedness. But if someone is a simulator of virtue, it pleases me That this one be afflicted, so that he may pay the penalties of his deceit, For the narrow gate cannot receive Thick flesh and a prominent belly.

XLV. A Mournful Poem Concerning the Calamities of His Own Soul

Alas, miserable me, what things have I suffered! What lamentation will be worthy of me? What fountain of tears is sufficient? What kind of songs? No one has wept so much for the death of his children, Or of noble parents, or of a dear wife, Or a sweet fatherland reduced to ash by impetuous fire, Or limbs consumed by hateful disease, As much as I lament my soul, which has suffered dire things, (Woe is me, miserable!) for the heavenly image is perishing. For indeed, man is the creature of the great God and His image, Proceeding from God to God; Whoever has looked upward and bridled the flesh with the spirit, Has Christ as the propitious leader of his life; Consecrating his own possession, both tongue and ears and the mind itself, And strength, giving all things to the life that is to come, Snatching from the insatiable world whatever the plunderer of what belongs to others, The adversary Belial, was holding.

Metrical Version

To strike the flesh with cares and with fasts is useful, And through crosses and sacred watches. For hence he who is pure through sin becomes purer; And by this art the evil man removes no little of his vice. But if anyone be of a feigned heart, it pleases me that he Be struck. For this will be the penalty owed to fraud. The small door of the celestial house does not receive Excessively fat flesh and a swelling belly.

XLV. A Mournful Poem Concerning the Calamities of His Own Soul

Woe, miserable me, woe! What dire things I endure! What songs to our woes could be sufficient? Who can satisfy the grief? No one has thus wept for the companion of his bed, and dear parents, Or for the sad fates of his own progeny: Or for a fatherland’s seats burned by hostile flames, Or even for limbs lost to grievous disease: As much as I deplore the miserable fate of my soul: For the holy image of God has perished for me. For man is truly the creature and image of the One who holds sway, Going from the Highest to the Highest as a divine spirit, Who, looking upward and curbing the flesh with the mind, Has God as the leader and protection of his life: Who gives his tongue, and ears, and mind, And strength, and his riches to the life to come: Snatching from the insatiable world whatever Belial was holding, Which he who is a plunderer of things not his own ever seizes.

DE SEIPSO

^A And bringing into the storehouses things far better than those on earth, Which are taken away by theft, or are destroyed, To behold the King, God Himself, and to become spirit, 20 Having put off the flesh and its resistant bulk, And to obtain a station in the radiant choir of angels, Bearing a reward greater than one’s great labors; No longer looking upon the light type of the tabernacle, as before, Nor the written and vanishing image of the law, 25 But looking upon the truth itself with the eye of a pure mind, And chanting festive sounds from one's mouth. This is the end of human life. Toward this, the indignity Of Christ’s sufferings lifts up those on earth, He who assumed the form of a servant, and tasted 30 Of death, and encountered life again— He who is God, the dispenser of life, above time, ^A The ever-whole image of the immortal Father, That he might loose me from servitude and the bonds of death, Coming again to a life that is better. 35 But I have not preserved the precious mysteries of God, Though I had a mind initiated in the heavenly ascent; But the bulk of clay weighs me down, and I was not able, Rising up from the mire, to cast my eye upon the light. Indeed I did cast it; but a cloud stood in the midst, covering my eyes, 40 Flesh rising up with a terrestrial spirit. Many cares in my heart roll hither and thither, The empty wandering of a mind that is led astray, Driving Christ far away—God the Word (for the Bridegroom Does not accept being joined to a soul that is another’s); 45 And many evil poisons of destruction lie upon my tongue. For the tongue is to men half of their wickedness.

[alt-version omitted]

^A Voiding anger, a naked evil, which most Violently boiling, carries a man out of his mind, Or hiding a treacherous design within his breast, 45 50 Speaking smoothly from a soft mouth. Would that there were a door for my eyes, And for my ears, not being well open on all sides, So that I might see and hear that which is good, and receive it, But that both might automatically be closed to evils. 55 It is a most excellent thing for hands to be ever raised to heaven, Pure, and to offer themselves to heavenly laws. And for feet to walk a smooth path, not upon thorns, Nor along headlong cliffs and an unholy track. Now, God indeed gave every limb as a good to be used for good, 60 But wickedness devised it as a weapon of death for me. ^A What is this law to me? How am I a captive upon earth Of the flesh? How is the body mingled with a light spirit? I am not whole mind, a pure nature, nor am I of the coarser Whole dust, but from both I am something else and both. 65 Therefore I also bear the incessant din of battle, Of flesh and soul set against one another. I am an image of God, and I am dragged toward wickedness, While the worse strives against the better, not piously: Or I flee wickedness, and I stand my ground, not without struggle, ^A 70 Having wrestled much with a heavenly hand. For there is, there is for me a double law: of which the one is good, And following what is noble; but the worse [is another], Following evils; the one is mind, ready To obey Christ, journeying toward the light:

^A another, again, is of flesh and blood, and is eager To receive Belial, being drawn toward the darkness. Verily the one finds pleasure in earthly things, as if they were good, Things which do not stand firm, but pass away. And it loves carousings, and hatreds, and arrogant surfeiting, 80 And the shameful deeds and gains of dark actions. It travels the broad road, and takes pleasure in its own ruin, Being clothed in the murky mist of folly. But the other rejoices in heavenly things, as though those Which are hoped for were already present, and has God alone As the hope of life; while it deems the things here below but worthless smoke, 85 As things that are otherwise, where something else may occur. And it loves poverty, and burdens, and cares That are praiseworthy, and travels the narrow road of life. And to those struggling, there came from above an inspector, 90 The Spirit of the great God, and gave a hand to the mind, Loosing the painful turmoil of the body, and Lulling to sleep the surging swell of dark passions. But even so, the flesh keeps a raging fury, and does not cease From war, and the battle sways back and forth. 95 At one time it is mastered by the mind: at another time, again, The mind follows the flesh, though it does not wish to. But as for the one, it yearns for what is better; yet [the other] it hates, Performing it, and laments the grievous slavery, And the deception of our first-begotten father, and the wicked 100 Wiles of the mother, the mother of our own intemperance, And the criminal lie of the crooked, blood-devouring dragon, Who takes pleasure in the sins of men, And [the tree], and the fruit of the plant destructive to mortals, ^B And the fatal tasting, and the gates of death.

METRICAL VERSION

^A And the most shameful stripping of limbs and from paradise And the most dishonorable casting out from the tree of life, This my mind, worn out, laments. But now my flesh ^B Looks back to the first-born and the man-killing plant, And always embraces every sweet food Which the destructive, bitter, fawning serpent shows. I indeed both groan and with prayers [beseech] the King, Who rules over all and brings yokes to all, I beseech [Him] on behalf of soul and body, that between both He would judge propitiously and scatter [this] war, Subjecting the worse to the better, as is right; For this is by far better for both: That the soul, burdened, be not turned toward the earth, Like lead being dragged into the deep, As wickedness melting like wax in the fire. Praying such things, I also apply many remedies To the fat flesh, that I may quickly scatter the grievous disease. And its strength, as of a most treacherous beast, I restrain In strong chains, fearing the evil swelling. I place bolts upon my belly; with agony I rend My difficult-to-heal spirit, and I pour out streams of tears. I bend my knees, worn out, to the King; I pass sleepless nights, And I am clothed in filth, wearing a mourning garment. For others there are banquets, and dances, and laughter, And revelries, the playthings of a blooming age. Others again rejoice in wives and children, And in the glory of great wealth, which is passing away.

METRICAL VERSION

^A Others, again, delight in public squares, and groves, and baths, and breathe deeply in cities, led on by auspicious words and the clamor of those who follow, haughty on high from their platforms. For manifold are the pleasures of life for mortals; and in the midst of ills, joy is blended. But I am dead to life, and draw but a scant breath upon the earth; I flee from cities and from men. Dwelling with wild beasts and crags, alone, apart from others, I inhabit a wretched, jagged cleft, a life of hardship; wearing one tunic, shoeless, homeless, subsisting on hope alone, and I am a source of mocking laughter to all who dwell on earth. 145 My bed is a heap of straw, my coverings a rough sackcloth, and the dust on the floor is dampened by tears.

Others I hear have ashes for their food, and for others their drink is mixed with bitter tears; 150 others, buffeted by wintry snows, standing like trees for forty nights and days, with heart lifted from the earth, and keeping God alone in their minds. Another has bound his lips, and imposed bridles upon his tongue; 155 not, however, bridles for all speech, but he loosened it for hymns alone, like a living lyre struck by the Spirit. And another has dedicated his head to Christ, keeping it unshorn for the sake of a holy vow. Another has fastened his eyes shut, and placed doors upon his ears, 160 lest he inadvertently let a sting of death pass within.

SECTION I. POEMS ON HIMSELF

Such are the remedies I apply to the flesh that is hostile to me, and now my gray hair also brings aid to my sufferings. But many unforeseen tempests buffet me, wretched as I am, 165 and harass me with grievous pains. Yet this flesh is persuaded by neither reason nor labor, nor is it subdued, nor is its madness bent by time; but it always hastens with blind eyes toward what is opposed to life, and longs for the abyss, like a legion. If ever it yields even a little 170 to the fear of God, or to labors, or to oracles from God, like a plant pulled back by the hands of a gardener, it is bent back again into its former vice. O wretched race of mortals, doomed to death! How we, torn by evils, take pleasure in our own madness! 175 We neither honor the reason which God placed within us as we were being born, ^A granting it as a seed of life; nor do we tremble at the law which Christ, the King, shading forth the truth, once carved upon stone tablets, 180 and finally in our hearts, by the splendor of the holy Spirit; nor do we meditate on things contrary to the sufferings of Christ, by which He drew me from grievous sufferings, taking on flesh, and being nailed to the cross, and piercing the dark transgressions 185 of the creature, and the power of Belial, so that, reborn and having leaped forth from the tomb, we may have glory on high with the great Christ. Many indeed are the gifts of God to all those on earth, which even surpass our tongue. For even when beating me for my wicked deeds, 190 He draws me toward life, and plans matters of love.

[alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

These hostile remedies I myself offer to the flesh, and extreme old age also brings me aid. Moreover, a vast and unexpected force of evils harasses me, and diverse pain tears me apart. Yet not even for this does it yield to reason, nor do labors overcome it, nor does it rage less violently even with the passage of time: but it always rushes against life with blind impulse, and like a legion, it desires only the abyss. But if it yields for a little while to divine fear, or to hardships, or to the words of God: as a shoot bent by force by the hands of a farmer, it immediately returns to its former corruption of vice. O wretched mortal race, which is crushed by a mass of evils, and rejoices in its own destruction! It neither honors the light of inborn reason, ^B which is given from the citadel of heaven as a seed of life: nor does it fear the law, which Christ once, shading forth the truth, gave as statutes inscribed in rigid stones: nor what that most holy Spirit implanted in our breast in these latter times: but it pursues intentions contrary to the punishments of Christ, by which He drew me from the horrific diseases of the soul, while He took on flesh, and was fixed on the cross, and pierced our transgressions, and the enemy, and his empire: so that, being born again, and having been brought forth from the depths of the jaws of the tomb, I might have glory in the seat on high. Truly, there are many gifts to all men, and such that no speech can recount these. For He draws us indeed to life, and when He beats us, and when, having sent scourges, He makes all things prosperous.

He indeed governs all things for mortals with a benevolent mind, although He holds the depth of His wisdom hidden, and a great darkness lies between our race and God—a darkness which few overcome 195 with most keen eyes, being perspicacious in their life, and pure, grasping the pure wisdom. But Christ, granting me an extraordinary favor, first gave me as a gift to my mother, who prayed from the bottom of her heart, and she received me 200 as a gift from her labor, for she possessed nothing better than a child among all her possessions; and then He sent into me a divine love for a temperate life through visions by night. But come now, listen, you who are godly-minded, while you who are profane, ^A close the doors to your ears. 205 I was a tender boy, not entirely a child, when the mind begins to be inscribed with the images of good and evil things, not yet having form through solid thoughts, but being first etched by the characters of others. But for me, my parents inscribed my mind not with evil 210 colors, but while I was a learner of virtue, they taught me noble things. For they were truly admirable to all people on earth, having a mind intent upon piety, equal alike in their gray hair and in their glorious characters, blessed and strong, 215 overstepping the measures of human life. He indeed at one time stood far away from the great sheepfold, of which he now holds the great governance—O, that he was the most distinguished of sheep, and from what kind ^B of sheep he became a shepherd, and now a father, and a shepherd of shepherds.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

^A He did not come early into the fruitful vineyard, but far surpassed the first laborers in his toil. She, however, was the holy shoot of holy parents, and of a holy root and mother of holy branches, in no way inferior to those of old who had received Christ the King, or had seen Him risen from the tomb; breathing for a little while upon the earth by the necessity of the flesh, but having the greater part of their life above.

By them, my tender mind was molded, and like fresh-set cheese, I quickly took the shape of the basket. And once, while I was sleeping, such a dream stood by me, drawing me easily toward the love of virginity. ^B Two virgins appeared to me, shining in white garments, standing nearby, both beautiful and of equal age. To both, their adornment was an absence of adornment, which is indeed the beauty of women. No gold adorned their necks, nor hyacinth; nor did they wear garments of fine silken threads, nor did tunics of soft linen cover their limbs, nor did their eyes glitter with painted eyelids, nor did they have any of those stimulants of lust that artful men have devised for the attractiveness of women. No golden locks shed over their shoulders played together with the breathings of the gentle winds. A beautiful robe was fastened upon them by a girdle, hanging down to their feet as far as the ankles; and with a veil they hid their heads and cheeks above, holding their eyes fixedly upon the ground. ^C A beautiful blush of modesty adorned them both, as much as one could see through the well-woven veil.

[alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

He who, though he had not come to the vine at the first hours, nevertheless toiled more than the first farmers. ^B But the mother, a holy offspring of holy parents, and an excellent shoot of a pious stock, was not inferior to the matrons who chanced to see Christ when He was alive from the tomb; living for a little while on earth, constrained by flesh, but much more in the realms on high. My soft mind was fashioned by them: it received purity, as cheese does the marks of a basket, immediately itself. And through this vision, while sleep held my limbs, I was captivated by the love of the virginal life. For two maidens seemed to stand before me, not far off, distinguished in snow-white garments, both equal and beautiful; and they lacked all those things that are considered adornment, which makes a woman beautiful, and which is an ornament. ^D Their neck did not shine with gold, nor with hyacinth; nor were their garments even of silk. Their soft limbs did not shine in white tunics, nor did a painted pupil give splendor to the eye. All things were absent which the ingenuity of craftsmen contrives for a woman’s face, those stimulants of adultery. No yellow hair was visible, spread over their back, and playing at the same time with the light breezes. Very tight bands fastened their beautiful robe, covering their body down to their feet. And, wearing their heads and cheeks covered with white veils, they kept their eyes fixed upon the ground; and modesty also stained their faces with a beautiful blush, as much as I was then able to discern beneath the veil.

^A Their lips were kept closed in silence, like a rose within dewy calyxes. Beholding them, I rejoiced greatly. For I declared them to excel mortal women by no small measure. And they also loved me, for their spirits were warmed towards me, and they kissed me with their lips, as if welcoming a dear son.

255 And as I asked them who they were and whence, and what kind of women they were, one said, "I am Virginity, and the other Temperance, we who stand near Christ the King, enjoying the beauty of the celestial virgins. ^B But come hither, child, blend your mind with our minds, and your torch with our torches, that we may lift you up, shining through the ether, and place you beside the radiant light of the immortal Trinity."

262 Thus they spoke as they were carried through the ether. My eye followed them as they flew away. And they were a dream; but for a long time my heart was delighted with the solemn visions of the night, and with the images of radiant purity. 267 Now a thought was gathered into my mind, just as the perception of good and evil is firmly fixed. And understanding led desire; and the dim beauty of the nocturnal vision appeared ^C conspicuously. For just as when a hidden spark, feeding within, suddenly flashes out upon dry stubble—a small flame at first, but then a boundless fire is raised—so I, too, consumed by the vision, 275 flashed forth love, and the light appeared to all, no longer hidden in the depths of my soul. ^D

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

At first I mingled with the pious, who have fled the bonds of marriage, being released from the earthly world, so that they might follow Christ the King on feathered wings, 280 departing from hence with great glory. These, because I loved and cherished them in my heart, I held as guides to heavenly hope; but afterward, I laid aside the heavy yoke of marriage, longing for the lofty portion of those who flourish eternally. 285 For indeed, such natures as have been allotted the broad heaven are ^A unyoked and superior to grievous passions. First is the radiant great God; and as the ministers of God standing near the high-throne, those who receive the first ray of the pure God, 290 all-shining, granting light to mortals. As many as have been gathered into one from soul and body, and are a duality—the offspring of struggling clay—long for a union and are ready to sow in the body. But the Word, drawing us toward a better portion, ^B 295 placed me apart from the flesh and drove me from the deceitful world, and placed me near the life of the deathless ones. Thither did desire send me, high-hearted, nor did I fix my feeble footstep upon the lowly earth. But as one having tasted sweet milk, 300 or honey, of that stable choir stationed there, I did not wish to draw near to the bitter food for me, the life-consuming evil born here.

METRICAL VERSION

For I began to associate with the pious band which had fled this fragile world and its marriage chambers, that it might follow Christ to the heavens with swift course, departing hence not without a wondrous splendor. ^A Embracing these with a fervent heart, I held them as the constant guides of my life. Afterward, I cast far from me the hard yokes of matrimony, longing gladly to approach the virgin choirs. For the holy hosts inhabit no marriage chambers; indeed, no libido presses upon those who dwell in heaven. The Ruler of the high Olympus is first in celibacy; after him the angelic flock, which, shining entirely with the first rays of the Supreme Divinity, ^B subsequently bestows illumination upon me. But those who consist of body and soul, and whose flesh struggles against the ethereal image, desire marriage and willingly cast their seed in the flesh. But the Word, while carrying me toward better things, removed me far from the flesh and from the deceitful world, and joined me to the heavenly ones and the virginal choirs, whither desire was carrying my mind; and I was not able to fix my step upon the ground. But when I had tasted the taste of milk or sweet honey, with which that holy choir is satisfied, I felt loathing to taste henceforth the bitter food, the harm which is generated here, and which is the certain death of the soul.

^A Neither did banquets and the things that occupy youth concern me, nor soft clothing, nor effeminate hair, 305 nor the ungraceful charm of shameful words, nor unrestrained laughter, nor the harmful ferment of a hostile flesh. But the crags, and the mountains, and the neighing ^B horses, and the pack of hunting dogs I left to others, and casting off all such treasures, 310 I placed my neck under firm temperance, which did rear me and love me and raise me to great glory, and willingly placed me into the hands of Christ. But O Father, and Word of the Father, and shining Spirit, the support of our unstable life, 315 do not suffer me to be subdued by the painful hands of the Enemy, the adversary of the hope placed in You; nor, like a black ship, moving prosperously, running straight, and already flying near to the harbors, ^C should a tempest of baleful winds, having sprung up suddenly, send me back to the wide reaches of life, to be tossed here and there by great evils, lest perhaps it dash me against hidden reefs. For such is the mind of the envious Beliar: 325 he always hates the race of mortals, nor does he allow those of earth to become heavenly, since he himself was cast down upon this earth through his own counsel; wretched being, who, having the first prize of beauty, and the great royal honor of God, 330 instead of light, clothed himself in hateful darkness. ^D Therefore he always delights in dark deeds, and has power over dark wickedness here. He is also double in form, and tortuous in thought, turning himself from one snare to another.

[alt-version omitted]

^A And he quickly transforms into an angel of light, and smiling gently, he fawns upon the mind. Here, especially, it is for the prudent man to be on his guard, lest in place of light he approach death. For to flee wickedness, and [to flee from] a worse man is good; 340 for wickedness is hated by many when it is manifest. But I praise the man who detects the one lying in ambush, and who scrutinizes the invisible, seeing with the sharpest eyes of the Spirit. But save also my old age and my gray head; may You bring my life to a peaceful end, as before 345 You cared for me affectionately, leading me from day to day for the best, bringing me forward with better hopes; and lead me from hostile and grievous anxieties to the serene harbor of Your kingdom, 350 so that I may have a share of heavenly glory, O King.

XLVI. Against the Flesh

Destructive flesh, dark storm of Belial the evil-minded, destructive flesh, root of manifold passions, destructive flesh, companion of the world that flows downward, destructive flesh, rival of the heavenly life, 5 O flesh, both enemy and friend, sweet torment, treacherous good, always tasting of the man-slaying tree: O pit, muddy chain, heavy mass of lead, untamed beast, offspring of struggling matter, evil ferment, and tomb and chain of your mistress, 10 the heavenly image which we received from God, will you not cease from your shameless wickedness? Will you not yield to the Spirit and to old age, O miserable and senseless one?

^A Which Christ fashioned with his own hands alone, when he set the disordered world of matter in array by his Word 15 and at the last mingled it with his divinity, so that he might save his beloved creature, the heir of a great life, oppressed by the soul-destroying sufferings of Belial, and rescued it from relentless death by his own death. 19 Therefore, revere me, and restrain your wantonness; do not keep a ceaseless madness in my soul. 21 I call to witness the hand of the immortal God, and that evil day which shall bring all worldly things to one final end: 23 how I shall assault you, and by bending you with all manner of pains, will make you weaker than the dead 25 unless you stay for me your wickedness and your flux, having laid hold of the pure fringes of Christ. 27 Come to me, O fount of tears, a cleanser from the depths, 28 and wearying wakefulness of body and mind, that you may cool my flame, and wash away 30 the rot of grievous passions. And you, belly, send away surfeit; and may my knees, lying on the ground, grow stiff, and may ashes be my food. 33 And may a rough sackcloth be stretched around my tender limbs, a bulwark for my soul as it is driven and harassed. 35 Come, gloom-bringing slayer of cares, always foreseeing the scourges that approach. 37 Such are my remedies for my folly. But thine, O Christ, is both pure life and life from the dead. 39 Who accepted the forefather of our vice and blood, since he wept over his tasting and his deception? 41 Who cleansed the crooked king Manasseh with lamentations? Who delivered David from his great sin?

METRICAL VERSION

Who, having seen Nineveh prostrate on the ground and lamenting, saved her? ^A Who shed tears over the younger son? 45 Who, rejoicing in the pure, did not drive away the tax collectors? Who placed a wandering sheep upon his shoulders? Who cleansed the lepers and drove away bitter diseases, Bestowing goods upon bodies and souls? These are your gifts, O Blessed One, light of mortals. But do you step upon 50 Our swelling sea, and may the storm immediately fall.

XLVII. Reprimand against the irrational part of the soul.

Empusa, madwoman, O wretched heart, Empusa, madwoman, whither are you carried by pleasures, Looking around everywhere at what is near? Will you not be temperate? Will you not extinguish the fire ^B Which kindles base desires within you? Will you not rekindle the rational and genuine part, Taking the spirited part as an ally for the struggle? Soul, what are you suffering? Why do you think thoughts unworthy? Do you not know that it has fallen to you alone to hold the reins, 10 As it were a three-horse chariot of yoked Horses, unequal in their nature? One is noble, one undisciplined, and one is gentle; And if ever you give the reins to the insolent one, It leaps, it struggles, it disturbs the course, 15 Rushing thoughtlessly, and having taken hold of the middle one, It persuades it to breathe with it, and the noble one It leads away, having enslaved it like a captive, Dragging it against its will and groaning at the error.

^A It is borne disorderly with a most irrational rush, 20 Rushing downwards, as if down a precipice, with violence; And it foresees nothing, nor does it check its course, Until it would encounter the gates of Hades, Destroying itself, and thee, O most miserable one. If thou shouldst reflect according to thy nature, 25 And, rejoicing in the noble colt, shouldst entrust entirely The course to it, as one who knows well how To traverse that path which leads upwards; And shouldst rebuke the middle one, so as to show The spirited part the way it ought, and to run along 30 With the one possessing mind; and shouldst forcefully tame the unruly one With goads, not allowing it to be restive— Then thy course will be easy, well-ordered, Serene, painless, and full of hope. ^A And reason, like a noble horse, 35 Conquers, having acquired from nature the ability to conquer, Always advancing, gazing quietly upwards, Passing by all things here that are difficult; Nor does it give in until the divine lot, Saving itself and thee, the blessed one.

XLVIII. On the one dead to the world.

XLIX. Lamentation.

[alt-version omitted]

Nor is there an escape for me from a life filled with wanderings, And from hateful wickedness, which has tethered me below, 5 Besetting me on every side with inescapable anxieties, Which consume the beauty and the graces of the soul. But set me free, O King, set me free from these earthly bonds, And appoint me a place in the heavenly choir.

L. Against the Devil in Sickness

Neither does the market of cities, nor groves, nor baths, nor all the deceitful flowers of this life please me; for they were not dear to me even before, ever since I ^A embraced Christ, rising up far from earthly things. 25 I lament that the life-giving Eye of Christ the Lord—for whom I was a care, if I was anything at all—has deserted me, He who honored me even in the womb of my chaste mother, and rescued me from the cruel sea and from sufferings. 30 I lament that I have cast aside the reins of the godly people—not, indeed, having cast them away, but no longer holding them in my hands—the people who formerly rejoiced in my discourses, when from my tongue the ^B threefold light shone forth. Now, indeed, as an infant, deprived of its mother's breast, 35 clings with thirsty lips to the dry nipple in the arms of its mother, and the mother mocks its desire; so the people hang upon my tongue, longing for the spring that formerly flowed for many, of which now their ears do not receive even a small drop. Others pour forth sweet speech, 40 but the hearers are grieved; for they do not hear the voice of their own father. 45 Where is my station of nocturnal songs, by which I, resting my feet firmly, stood like a stone endowed with life, either holding communion alone with Christ, or together with the congregation, having the delight of sacred alternating songs? Where is the sweet labor of bending knees, by which I formerly poured out hot tears, collecting my darkened mind? And where are the alms-giving hands, busy about the sick? Where has the wasting away of my weak limbs gone?

METRICAL VERSION

No markets, no gardens, no baths do I seek, nor any of the beautiful things of life; for in the end this deceitful life has nothing. I did not even hold these dear before, since I had embraced Christ himself, and left all earthly things far behind. But I groan because the pleasant light of Christ has left me, for whom my salvation was no small care before; who even in my mother's womb adorned me with honor, and snatched me from the insane waves of the sea. I groan that I have cast aside the reins of the most holy people; not, however, that I have thrown them away, but I hold them no longer: the people who formerly leaped at our words, when I sang the sacred divinity of the Trinity. But now, not otherwise than a child removed from its nurse ^B brings its mouth to her dry breasts, but in vain; for that longing is empty: so the pious people hang upon our mouth, desiring the spring that was formerly prodigal and flowed for many, of which now they do not possess even a single drop indeed. Others bring forth sweet things, but the listener grieves in his heart, for he does not have the words of his father. Ah! where is the most joyful station of nocturnal song, by which I was supported like a stone, having converse either alone with the highest Divinity, or singing myself in turn with many? Where is the sweet labor of the bent leg; from which I drove away the darkness of my mind, bedewing my face with tears? Ah! where is my right hand, tending the needy and the languid bodies; and whither has the strength gone from my weak limbs?

^A I no longer lift my hands to holy sacrifices, 50 Mingling myself with the great sufferings of Christ. I no longer stand for the choir beloved of the martyrs, Venerating the precious blood with laudatory words. Mold is upon my books, and the words are unfinished, To which what man, thinking kindly, will put an end? 55 All is dead for the living; and my life is more formless Than a ship, whose joints have been loosened. But yet, even if you drive me, O heavy-groaning demon, I will never bend the knees of my heart to you; But invulnerable, unyielding, I shall descend ^B 60 Into my mother earth: let the worm have the remnants of the serpent. Strike the skin, but the soul is invulnerable; the divine image Which I received, I shall present to Christ, O murderer. For you bound the great Job in times past, but you were overcome, When the great arbiter of the contest crowned him, 65 And set his victory in a renowned proclamation, And gave him back everything double, which you had scattered. Such is the law of Christ's gentleness; but command me, Late though it be, to be whole; Thy word is a remedy. I am a new Lazarus among the dead; but cry out, 70 "Arise," and let the dead man live at Thy words. I am a new paralytic, undone in my limbs; but cry out, "Be made firm," and I shall walk, carrying my bed on high. I steal for my hands a remedy from Thy tassels, but stay the flow Of blood with speed for my withering flesh. 75 For I bow before Thee, Thy possession, like the Canaanite woman, Bearing a curved body; but raise me up, O King.

^A The sea rises, but for you the sleep is sweet; yet quickly ^A Rise up, and let the storm cease at your word. Indeed, there is pain for me, and disease holding my limbs. 80 For we are not entirely devoid of human sufferings, Neither I, nor anyone else, since God so commands, That no one should lift their brow above the heavenly, But all, looking to the help of the great God, Should have a goad of need toward piety. 85 But yet, I do not lament so much on account of the disease, (For disease has also a certain cleansing for the prudent, Which all need, even he who is very strong; For it is a bond to mortals, and carries with it a certain darkness,) As much as I am anxious for the lowly, suffering pains, 90 Lest anyone should slip because of my misfortunes. Few among mortals are strong-minded, who from God Receive willingly all events, Both prosperous and adverse, and know the reason in all things, Even if it hides the deep depth of His wisdom. 95 But many leap upon the weak pious ones, As if they have no reward for their piety; Or they maintain in their breasts a thought entirely foul, That this whole structure has an automatic formation, And that God does not rule over all human things, 100 For indeed, He would not hold such rudders for us. Be mindful of these things, and ward them off for Your servant, O Greatest, And do not cast me toward a shameful end of life. I am this servant of Yours, and I stretch out my hands to Your Gifts, and to the heads of those who bow before me.

^A And they call me the physician of their own diseases. Be propitious, O Christ. If You hide Yourself, give me strength to win the prize. Do not hold me as entirely dishonored, O Word, nor burdened with toil, Nor lead me without a bridle, nor crushed by suffering. Prick me with a goad, O Blessed One, not a spear; nor let the sea 110 Carry a ship that is too light, nor one that is too heavily laden. Prosperity is arrogant, and pains cover the mind in darkness. Balance Your punishments against my weakness. You have checked me when I was proud; have mercy on me, while I am struggling greatly, Since it is still a time of clemency, O best of judges. 115 I revere my own gray hair and my limbs, consumed by spontaneous torment, And my sacrifices, being vexed by so many calamities, and that from God. But why do I uselessly lay down laws for the Divinity? Lead me, O Christ, Your servant, as You will.

LI. A Lamentation for His Own Soul

the deadly serpent has infected, wiping its bitter venom upon your image? Weep, weep, you sinner; this alone is your remedy. 13 I shall leave behind the feasts and the beloved companionship of my peers; I shall leave behind the great glory of oratory and noble 15 blood, and high-roofed houses, and all wealth; I shall leave behind the sun’s sweet light, the heaven itself, and the shining constellations with which the earth is crowned—these things for those who will yet live. But I, bound in head-feathers, dead and breathless, upon the bed 20 shall lie, soothing those who mourn with my final groans, having a shroud and an irresistible love, though not for long. And then, a stone, and rot within—yet even so, my heart does not care for these things, ^A but I shudder only at the pure scales of God. 25 Woe is me! What shall I do? How can I escape wickedness? By hiding in the depths or the clouds? For would that there were some place free from sin, as they say there is for some from wild beasts and diseases, so that I might go there as a fugitive! On land, one escapes the bitter sea, and by a shield, the spear, 30 and by a roof, the cover from the frigid snow. But wickedness is all-encompassing, widespread, a most inescapable kingdom. Elias went up to heaven in a fiery chariot; Moses once escaped the decree of the child-slaying tyrant; holy Jonas, the dark fate of the whale’s belly, 35 and Daniel the beasts, and the children the flames. But for me, what is the release from wickedness? King, O Christ, save me.

METRICAL VERSION

LII. Lamentation

LIII. Another Lamentation

LIV. Against the Devil

^A To the nations or to the cities, as many as have not perceived God. ^A But I have been fashioned as the portion of Christ and as a temple, And as a sacrifice; but then a god, the soul having been mingled with the divinity. But give way to God, and to the divine creature, Fearing also the wrath of God, and the chorus of souls 20 Of the pious, and the sound in eternal hymns.

LV. The turning away of the evil one, and the invocation of Christ.

Flee from my heart, contriver of deceit, flee most swiftly! Flee from my limbs, flee from my life! Thief, serpent, fire, Belial, wickedness, death, chasm, dragon, ^B beast, Night, plotter, madness, chaos, envier, manslayer! 5 You who also brought ruin upon my first ancestors, Tasting of wickedness, O baneful one, and of death. Christ the King commands you to flee into the depths of the sea, Or unto the crags, or into the herd of swine, As you did formerly unto the wicked legion. But give way, 10 Lest I strike you with the Cross, before which all things tremble. I carry the Cross in my limbs, the Cross in my journey, ^C And the Cross in my heart; the Cross is my glory. Will you not cease lying in wait for me, you who are idle in evil? Will you not look upon the cliffs, Will you not look upon Sodom, or upon the herds of the godless 15 Who have severed and dissolved the great divinity, But rather upon my gray hair, but rather upon my heart? You always stain me with murky thoughts, O enemy, Neither fearing God nor the sacrifices. This man was also a sounding herald of the mind of the Trinity; 20 And now he looks to the end. O mud, do not... ^D

[alt-version omitted]

LV. He drives away the devil from himself, and invokes Christ.

(Interpreted by Billius.)

From my heart and my limbs and my life, deceitful one, Now flee, thief, subtle serpent, heavy flame, Wickedness, Belial, death, beast, chasm, dragon, Night, fury, snares, envious one, night of men.

^B You brought plague and destruction to our fathers: For death followed the taste of sin, and thrives. Christ the King commands you to go into the cliffs, or the herd Of swine, or to go under the sea-born waves, As once the wicked legion. Flee now, Lest I strike you with the Cross, which all things fear. For I carry the Cross in my limbs and in the midst of my body, And in the ways the Cross is my praise and my glory. Will you not cease to prepare snares for me, O criminal? Will you not behold Sodom, and the precipice, and the atheists Who do not hesitate to wickedly sever the divine power, But behold my breast and my gray hair? You always stain me with black thoughts, bitter enemy, Fearing neither the sacred things nor the highest powers of the Lord. I have been a herald of the holy Trinity, O muddy one, Do not, spirit, consign me now to fate:

^A That I may meet the pure in pure heavenly lights. O splendors, come to my life; I stretch out my hands, receive me. Farewell, O world, farewell, bearer of toils; spare those who come after me.

LVI. Against the same.

LVII. Against the evil one.

LVIII. Against the same.

[alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

LVI. AGAINST THE SAME. (Translated by Billius.)

LVII. AGAINST THE SAME. (Translated by the same.)

LVIII. AGAINST THE SAME. (Translated by the same.)

^A

LIX. Against the same.

LX. Against the same.

LXI. Lamentation.

[alt-version omitted]

5 Fount of evils, do not gush forth, O vain mind. And if you do, O tongue, do not receive the mire. And if you do, O hand, do not receive the worse things. Thus may the divine image remain incorrupt for us.

^B

LXII. Supplication to Christ

^A

LXIII. Lamentation to Christ

LXIV. Another to Christ

^B

LXII. Supplication to Christ

LXIII. Lamentation to Christ

LXIV. Another to Christ

LXV. Another Lamentation

If my bodily temperament were in a poor state, I might perhaps find a physician. If I were a pauper, I would approach a wealthy man. I take refuge in a harbor when a storm descends. If I had suffered an injury, I would flee to the laws and the tribunals. Indeed, a bush might even save me from a precipice. But if the corruptor of the divine image trips me up, who will be a defense for me besides you, O King?

LXVI. Another to Christ

What is this new thing, what is this new thing, O Word of God? I know what has happened to me: the depth of my heart is empty of words and of wise thoughts. The evil spirit has indeed fled and departed; but the place is not yet filled for me with better things. Fill me with your own, lest, coming again, the envious enemy should make of me a worse lodging place for himself.

LXVII. Concerning Himself

I have been deceived, my Christ, by trusting too much in you. I was lifted up and I have fallen heavily. But lift me up again; for I have perceived that I have played the fool with myself. If I should be lifted up again, I would fall again with a crash and a shattering. If you accept me, it is well; but if not, I have died. Has your kindness been exhausted upon me alone?

LXVIII. On Himself

^A They who hate me speak—though in my opinion they do not speak justly—how is it right to despise one’s friends? As though I did not name God, to whom all things lie open and are clearly known, as one who sees sharply! ^B But yet they speak, vanquished by envy—an envy of the passions, truly just, which consumes those who possess it, as is its desert. Consider, then, what it is they say.

They say that they themselves have brought me, the wretched one, down from my high brow. Bravo! For I was burdensome to them, and full of audacity, treading untrodden paths, a corrupter of ancestral customs and laws—if indeed one must call those things laws which are base, and wealth, and pride, and luxury, and the love of rule—which now hold sway. ^C So wretched are they in their understanding that they do not hesitate to say things which, if others—those who hate us—were to say them, it would be fitting for them to cover their faces in shame.

LXVIII. Item on Himself

(A. B. Caillau, translator)

They speak, those who are hostile (though it seems to me that what they speak is not just; for what equity is there in despising friends, and as if it were not God Himself, to whom all things lie open and are clearly apparent, who sees acutely?); they speak, yet conquered by spite, by a most just passion, one which, as it deserves, consumes those whom it holds. But observe what they say. They say that I, exhausted by bitter evils, have been forced to put down my arrogance—as they presume—having been cast out from the royal city. Bravo! For I was heavy to them, and full of audacity, walking upon untrodden ways, a contaminator of ancestral custom and law—if corrupt things are to be called law—since wealth, pride, luxury, and ambition govern our contemporaries. So captured in mind are they that they rage, daring to say these wretched things, which, if even an enemy were to speak them, those who heard them would do well to blush.

^A Thus blinded is wickedness, and harmful even to the mind itself. Let these men, therefore, fall far from this discourse; these things do not concern us, neither those who speak ill, nor those who speak well. 30 Let them flow as they wish; for nothing is more nimble than the tongue, should it speak anything even regarding us. There are many who speak of these things more accurately, as those who speak without envy. 35 It is better to speak those things which, as I believe, will put an end to the harm of some, rather than stating what is being said: ^B For the course toward the worse is long, even if no one moves it forward. They say that I am vanquished by great thrones, 40 as though I had stepped down from those where I once stood, and that I despise the poor and those in narrow straits, speaking clearly of their own [vices]. This is because each person imagines that others feel what they themselves have experienced; but such have I not experienced. 45 To the former I was brought, and from the latter I was led away—not of my own will—with God thus ordaining it. To the former did the people and the shepherds bring me, seeking also a tongue for the Spirit.

^A For it was necessary to steady a wild people 50 by a steadfast life and by word, laboring as they were under the many incursions of doctrines, like a ship in the midst of a surge. To these, the dissolution of a body dying day by day did not bring me near. 55 We were noble and good (who shall gainsay it?) and full of the Spirit, whom now, in straits and precipitated by circumstances, they look upon as evilly ill-favored. ^B And the seat of the high-throned pastor 60 has no more people than before. Yet this work is not mine; rather, it was the work of Thy right hand, in which I had confidence. I was not ignorant of Jonah, who fled from the word of God but was caught 65 by the storm, the lot, the beast, the belly, the casting out, from which the herald became a herald indeed. But I was as one free from thrones and dangers. In my mind I was frequent 70 and quiet in pursuit of communion with God. But when all, like the stench of a corpse, descended upon me as vultures, and tore the people with easy rendings, how didst Thou pull me, O Christ, ^C and have the boldness as well? I did not lack knowledge of Jonah, who fled from the word of God, but was caught 65 by storm, lot, beast, belly, and casting out, from which the herald became a herald indeed. Yet I held myself as one free from thrones and from perils. In my mind, persistently, 70 I hurried to communion with God, and was at rest. But when all, like the stench of a corpse, stood around me as vultures, and were tearing the people with easy rendings, how didst Thou draw me, O Christ,

^A

75 Bridle of my life and heart; For this is Thine own work. As Thou didst lead me forth, four days buried, ^B From the tombs, crying, "Arise!" And they were struck with fear; but, my Christ, 80 Strengthen this flesh, Which I hold, having been received from Thee, to Thee, having carried My whole life, I gave as a gift. And I dwelt in a pit amidst wild beasts. If the outstretched hand ^C 85 Restrained the lions (and saved Daniel), Even now lions are present: save me. (What else, but for these wicked ones to look about themselves? We are overcome, O most base!) Those, indeed, do Thou restrain with just punishments, ^D 90 And to those, relaxing something of Thy wrath, (For who shall endure Thy hand when it is not tempered, Or the vengeance of a single nod?) Those do Thou terrify, and others glorify, O King, As many as glorify Thee. 95 Help, help Thy friends. We have perished; Make an inspection Of those who know how to lift hands to Thee alone. The most base laugh At Thy providence, and perhaps they do not believe ^A 100 They shall be judged, through pride. Increase the little flock, and the shepherd, The little one from the greatest.

METRICAL VERSION

Bridle of my life and heart? Thy Hand performed this. As me, buried, on the fourth day, With a cry Thou didst awaken, I rise; they seeing it are amazed; but, my Christ, Add strength to this flesh, Which I bear, accepted from Thee, to which I have given The whole spirit of my life. A pit for me, a dwelling place among wild beasts: If then the hand ^B Extended saved the prophet, restraining the lions, Even now the lions are present; save me. What remains? Shall not the wicked view themselves? We are vanquished, O malignant ones.) Demand just punishments from these; but the debt Remit to them mercifully. (For who could endure Thy hand when not tempered, And a nod that wounds?) These, O King, with fear, but those with glory do Thou affect, Who worship Thee with praises. Bring aid to Thy friends; death threatens. Visit them favorably, Who know how to lift hands to Thee alone. The malignant laugh at ^C Thy providence, nor ever do the proud fear The threats of the Judge. May the little flock be increased: once it was also the greatest, May the little herdsman become such.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

And if You will, from small I may again become great Within Your thrones.

LXIX. Prayer to Christ

Master, a violent storm overwhelms me, Your disciple. Awake, before I perish. Only command, and the tempest shall be calmed. I dare to say something: Christ, do not crush me, Nor extinguish me with the weight of afflictions. For You have many even worse than I, Whom You have had mercy upon. Do not judge me as I deserve. Relieve, O relieve me of the greater part of the talent. Who could bear the burden of even a single day? To whom shall I flee, burdened by evils?

LXX. Another

Again the dragon has approached; I cling to You, Christ. Hold me, hold me, do not betray Your image, Lest the enemy snatch me away like a bird from its nest. Alas! I fear the judgment, and I desire the dissolution of the body. I suffer persecution here, and have no rest in life. You call me from there, but I have no confidence. I am Yours, Christ; save me, as You Yourself will.

LXXI. Prayer in Sickness

I labor under sickness, I labor under sickness, and am burdened in body; And perhaps some mock my misfortune, Proud men, who desire to see me removed by death ^A. My joints are loosened, and the footing of my feet is weak,

METRICAL VERSION

And if You will, I may rest again, a great one, upon Your thrones.

LXIX. ORATION TO CHRIST

Heavy waves, O Christ, press upon Your disciple. Cast off Your slumber, lest I, a wretch, be overwhelmed. Only command, and the savage storm will subside. I shall speak something bold: O God, do not crush me, Nor destroy me with the hard mass of evils. For You have often given pardon to many who are worse than I. Do not let me pay the due penalty for my wickedness. Make the weight light for me by a great portion. Who could bear the burden of even one short day? Oppressed by so many evils, to whom shall I betake myself?

LXX. ANOTHER

The serpent has approached again: I embrace You. Hold, hold me: do not betray Your image, Lest the enemy snatch me away, as a bird from the nest. I tremble at the judgment, and I desire deliverance. I am chased here, and have no fixed state of life. You call me from here: I have no confidence. I am Yours, Christ: save Yours, as You will.

LXXI. PRAYER IN SICKNESS

I suffer with sickness, and am heavily burdened in body. And there are some, perhaps, who laugh at my plight, Who, fierce, would like to see me dead. My limbs are being unstrung, and my feet walk feebly,

^A or whether it be the work of abstinence or of my sins, or some struggle (for I do not know), yet I give thanks to my helmsman. Perhaps this is better for me; but stay the disease, stay it, I say, by a word: for your word is salvation. 10 If you do not grant this, at least enable me to endure it, as I do all other things. Moths have what is theirs; but do you protect your image ^B. By this means you will have your servant whole.

LXXII. On the departure from life

LXXIII. Supplicatory poem

^A I have suffered much, and I have fear in my mind, that the heavy weights of your justice, O King, might begin to pursue me. I shall bear my own doom, indeed, departing from this life, readily yielding to the miseries that devour my soul. But to you who shall come after, I give this command: there is no profit in this life. For it holds only the end of living.

LXXIV. Supplication to Christ

What is this tyranny? I have come into life; it is well. But why am I tossed by the surging waves of this life? I will speak a word, a bold one indeed, but yet I will speak it: If I were not yours, O my Christ, I would complain that I have been wronged. We are born, we are dissolved, we are fulfilled; I sleep, I take rest, I am awake, I walk; we fall ill, we are well; pleasures and burdens come upon us. We use the shifting sun, and the things that the earth brings forth; we die, the flesh decays: these things are even the lot of brute beasts, which are indeed base, yet are free from guilt. What then is the advantage for me? Nothing, besides God. If I were not yours, O my Christ, I would complain that I have been wronged.

LXXV. Lamentation to Christ

Woe is me! I am crushed by the straits of life: the greater part of life has already passed, I know it, and I breathe as one dead; yet wickedness refuses to be ground down along with me. Either add something to my time, O breathing-soul of mortals, or draw me away from these evils; this is the work of your kindness.

But if you do not wish it, I am dead. And what gain is it to you? Unless, perhaps, a fire also awaits me, yet a merciful one.

LXXVI. Another lamentation

LXXVII. A prayer to Christ

[alt-version omitted]

15 I have perished, I have perished by these calamities, but for your sake I perish. For you are my God; you dissolve the darkness of my troubles for one who is dead, and yet breathing a small or sorrowful life.

LXXVIII. To his own soul.

LXXIX. To his own soul.

METRICAL VERSION

If it pleases you, mind, there is a work for you, and a vast one. Search out what you yourself are, and whither you are quickly going; whence you arose, and where it is necessary for you to stand; whether that which you live is life, or something more. The task presses upon you, mind: wash away your filth. Think upon God and the mysteries of God: what existed before the world, and what this world is to you; whence it itself arose, and whither it will finally flow. The task presses upon you, mind: wash away your filth. ^B How Christ directs and rules the world, how some things are fixed, but others in turn flow, and we are ourselves especially in this shifting age. The task presses upon you, mind: let God be before your eyes. What splendor was mine before, and what disgrace is mine now, what the bond, and what the end of life is for me; by pondering these things, you will restrain the wandering of your mind. The task presses upon you, mind: endure all hardships.

LXXIX. To his own soul.

until, having torn you away from God's laws, he may take you as food between his ruinous teeth.

LXXX. To himself

LXXXI. To his own spirit

LXXXII. To the same

LXXXIII. On the battles of the demons

LXXX. To himself

LXXXI. To his own soul

LXXXII. On the same subject

LXXXIII. On the battles of the demons

^A I should never have known the artifices of the tortuous beast, nor would I have proclaimed them, or even thought them to be such. He has often come upon me before, resembling the night, and again in the deceitful appearance of light. For being a sophist of death, a born Proteus at fashioning forms, he becomes all things he wishes, so that he may subdue a man either by ambuscade or openly. For the falls of mortals are a delight to him. But never before have I seen such and so great a one as he who has now advanced against my struggles. For, seeing a greater reverence for God within my soul, he burned with more intense wrath; just as when some sickness, lying in wait within the flesh, hard to heal and held back by unseasonable remedies, is ^B consuming unseen hiding places and does not cease until, breaking out elsewhere, it brings danger; or as a torrent, checked on this side by strong embankments, presses against that side and bursts forth all at once. Such also was the wicked warfare of the envious one. When I restrained him with my tongue, he slipped away to another harm. Yet he did not take me. For Christ came as my protection, who rescued his disciples from the storm, and freed many from the bonds of passions and demons, giving grace to the will. Yet he did assuredly attempt it, just as of old he stole away by guile the leader of the human race. But, O Blessed One, restrain the strife, and command me, living in serenity, to offer to Thee always bloodless sacrifices. ^C

LXXXIV. Lamentation

Let no one, either wicked or ^D...

[alt-version omitted]

^A a good man, vex a light heart. For one has fashioned a better man, a man without understanding; ^B yet he who knows the disease also knows the remedy, which wipes away stains, or which brings struggle and glory to the clean. To others, O King, grant glory without labor. But for me, it is sweet to lay hold of Thee through sufferings and pains.

^C LXXXV. Exhortation to God. Whither has a demon, bearing you off, so far estranged you from Christ, O miserable soul, while he steals away your tongue, and ears, and eyes? Whither are you driving, outside the lovely light, ^D boiling over with desires and painful cares, and trembling at shadowy fear, wasting away while serving deceits, and pining from the surges of boiling anger? No longer wander, O soul, in the eddies of a vagrant mind, nor be forgetful of life, while clinging to the flesh and to the dark and open evils of the flesh. Let all things be shaken beneath by the evil storms of life. Time rolls all things here like dice: beauty, good repute, wealth, power, unstable gain. But I, taking hold of Christ, will never cease from hope, until I see the light of the Trinity moving into one. When the lot of the great God, mingled with flesh, the former image, shall be joined to heavenly things.

LXXXVI. Exhortation to Himself

^A a phantom of a greater theater. Obey the Word who clothed himself in flesh for your sake. But what does he say? "Let us depart from here; for I came here also, 5 that I might set you on high, who have fallen through sin." God calls. Let us make haste, having taken wing.

LXXXVII. On the Desire for God

My mother, why did you give birth to me, since you gave birth to one involved in many hardships? Why did you give me to this life that bears thorns? ^B If you indeed passed through it without suffering, like some bodiless being, it is a great wonder; but if you were overcome, you did not give birth to me out of love. 5 One man pursues one path of life, the tiller of the earth, another the traveler of the sea; another is a hunter, and one arms his hand with a spear; another is skilled in song, and another is a victor in the games. ^A Yet for me, God is my portion, and many pains, 10 and to grow weak from this loathsome disease. Tear me, tear me, you wicked one. For how long? For I shall soon leave you with my grievous ills, rejoicing. My mother, why did you give birth to me, since I am not able to conceive or to express God as much as I yearn to? 15 A small gleam of the heavenly, equal-glowing Trinity shone upon the eyes of my mind; but the greater part escaped me (and I have grief), like some lightning flash, flying past before it could satiate me with its light. But if I should take hold of you from there, dear Trinity, I shall no longer 20 complain of my mother’s womb. I was born for something good. But save me, save me, Word of God, and having dragged me from the bitter mire, lead me to another life. ^B [alt-version omitted]

^A Where a pure mind dances, radiant, around you, no longer hidden by a shadowy cloud.

LXXXVIII. An Anacreontic poem to his own soul.

What do you desire to happen to you? I ask my soul. What seems to you great, or what small, among those things valued by mortals? Ask only for something brilliant, and we shall provide it willingly. Do you wish to obtain for yourself the lot of Gyges the Lydian, and to reign by means of the ring, ^B turning it with your finger—obscuring it if it were to be obscured, revealing it if it were to appear? Do you wish for the lot of Midas 15 of the wealthy dead, for whom gold was everything, ^C bringing a famine of gold, in punishment for an insatiable vow? Do you wish for pellucid gems, the flatlands of rich earth, 20 and the counts of flocks, of oxen and camels? We shall not give you these; for it is neither better to receive them, nor is it possible for me, ^D for I cast aside my cares 25 from the moment I approached God.

Do you wish for thrones and rule, the fleeting pride of time, so that tomorrow you may sit on the ground, 30 casting down your eyes in humility, ^A while another acts haughtily, one who was previously your attendant, and perhaps even a very wicked man? Do you wish to be bound in marriage, 35 in impure sloth, and to be spun around by the times? Do you desire a sweet sickness, the anxiety of fair offspring? ^B If I were to call fair offspring 40 ill-offspring, what would you say? ^C When the pride of time falls, so that tomorrow you sit down, looking down in humility, while another, who was once your servant, acts haughtily, and perhaps is someone wicked—do you wish to be bound in marriage, ^D in impure sloth, and to revolve with the turns of the times? Do you wish for that sweet sickness, the burden of having many children? If I call a large family an ill-fated family, how will you respond?

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

Do you desire to be celebrated with words, and to gather theaters? Do you long to sell laws—not by just struggles—and to drag and be dragged before unlawful tribunals? Do you wish to brandish a spear, breathing something of war, and to win a crown from games, and the strength to slay wild beasts? Do you crave applause in the city, and to be fashioned in bronze? Do you wish for the shadow of dreams, the fleeting breeze, ^A the track of an arrow, the sound of a clapping hand? For what great thing is there for those who are wise among these things, which are here today but will be absent tomorrow, of which the wicked also partake, and of which nothing accompanies us when we depart from here? What then? Since these are not given, what do you wish to be given to you? Do you wish to become a god, a god, a brilliant attendant of the greatest God, dancing with angels?

Go, step forward, ^B spread the wings of swift-winged desire, wheeling toward the heights. I shall cleanse your wing; I shall raise you with words, as some swift-winged bird, and send you up to the ether. But do you, tell me, most wicked, foul little morsel of flesh, since I have been yoked to you, like a mistress to her cook, what do you wish to be given to you to preserve your life? For I owe you nothing more, however much you may strive to take many things by force. ^C Do you want a table fragrant with perfumes, and the superfluous arts of cooks, and the sounds of lyres and hands, not without the goads of lust? Do you want the broken movements of graceful youths, moving effeminately, and the contortions of maidens shamefully stripped? ^D

[alt-version omitted]

^A Those things which they fashion in their drinking bouts, whosoever are lovers of wantonness, 95 readily kindling a frenzy-driven wine—if you seek these things from us, you shall have them, but it will be your ruin. 100 Such things do I provide for the insatiable. ^B Let a house of stone, self-roofed, cover you, or a small work of an hour, if there is need for some labor. 105 Let your garment be camel’s hair, after the law of the just, or a skin—the covering of an ancient nakedness. ^C Let a simple pallet be yours: grasses 110 and branches of shrubs, a purple [?] spread, and that which is refreshing to fellow-drinkers. Let a table spontaneously arise for you, breathing sweetly, 115 which the kindly earth gives as uncrafted gifts to all. But since we have provided you with a place to recline, we shall also sustain you willingly. ^D Do you wish to eat? Have bread. 120 Have barley-meal, if it be at hand: for you, salt as a side-dish, and thyme, which we do not measure, a dish prepared without toil; ^A for hunger is another, greater side-dish. 125 Do you wish to drink? There flows for you water, a fountain always streaming, a drink that causes no drunkenness, a vine-less delight. But do you seek also to indulge yourself? 130 Let not even vinegar be grudged you. ^B But will these not suffice you? Do you desire to pour your pleasures insatiably into a leaking jar? 135 Seek another provider. For I have no leisure to cherish a domestic enemy, so that—like a serpent chilled and then loosed by warmth— you might smite me in my bosom. 140 Do you desire houses without measure, golden-roofed, and of painting...

METRICAL VERSION

You who move yourselves shamefully: and the dances of maidens, which, being summoned, strip their bodies indecorously, when he dines for whom Venus smiles, and who willingly burns himself with Bacchus? If you seek these from me, a noose is prepared for you. I offer these to my friends, for whom nothing can ever be enough. Let a cliff be your house, which of itself covers your limbs; or if labor must be borne, let one hour be consumed. Let your garment be camel’s hair, like a prophet’s, or let your nakedness be covered by a cheap, ancient skin. Let your seat, too, be common, of grasses and cut shrubs; let the cover be purple, not cruel to your fellow-drinkers. ^B Now, let the table be one that breathes sweetly—that which the kindly earth gives to anyone without labor. But when I have placed you [at the table], you are nourished without complaint. Do you desire food? Have bread, or such flour as there is. Salt is your side-dish; take as much onion as you wish—a side-dish which knows no labor: and another, greater one, hunger, which goads you. Do you desire drink? Water flows for you, perennial; a drink that knows not how to disturb the mind, and a pleasure removed from the vines. If you seek something more elegant, vinegar is not denied. But if these are not enough for you, and you desire that pleasure be unceasingly poured into a leaky vessel by me, you may seek someone else to serve you these things. For I have no leisure to cherish a domestic enemy, like a serpent, so that when I have warmed you in your coldness, you might suddenly wound me. Do you ask for spacious houses, which have golden beams, and are painted so skillfully...

and for the brightness of an elegant ^A slate, variegated and of many colors? Do you desire flowing garments that are not to be touched, and to wear great wealth upon your fingers, and beauty that is laughed at by those who have learned to be wise? But I, especially, considering that beauty ^B is within—for those who dwell below, I say these things to you mortals, you who live only for the moment, and who plunder yourselves for the sake of pleasure, seeing nothing more—but for those who live nobly and worthily of the portion from God that has been mingled with my muddy mass (observe the pride of the poor man), what kind of food do I provide ^C when I provide nourishment? Pass by for me the flaming sword, O God-minded one. Become a tiller of the divine plants living by the Word, of which the enemy has deprived me, despoiling me of pleasure. ^D Draw near again to the Tree of life that abides forever. And this, as I have discovered, is the knowledge of the greatest God, of one triple-shining light, toward which all things tend. Thus, every wise man will speak to himself. But he who does not wish to speak thus has passed his life in vain, if indeed he has passed it in vain, not to his own greatest ^A hurt.

LXXXIX. On Sickness

I was, I was, when I thrived; but now I have withered. Neither was I puffed up then, nor am I broken in spirit now. To thrive and to wither are different things; but I am not different.

I have come from the physicians, having gained this: ^A 5 that I should consider nothing, O Christ, superior to Thee, from whom flow all things and the efficacy of medicines. Behold the hot waters. I have the pool; but where is my angel? Come, temper the water; or if not, speak, O Savior, and I shall be made whole. 10 I have been struck; I have a goad for the fear of God. I know that I have been treated well, but stay the disease; or if that be not pleasing to Thee, grant me at least to bear it strongly. I am at a loss, my Christ; and what shall I do? Thou art a just Judge, but also gentle. 15 Where is Thy kindness? Or are we alone forgotten? Satan has cast me down, having bruised me; but Thou hast delivered me to the evil one. What is the cause? Do we not hope to tread upon scorpions?

^A 19 What is this, O Christ? I blush before the wicked, 20 and before the best, having no rest from evils; the former laugh, while for the latter hopes have perished. Daily I die and leave this life. If justly, as a wicked man, where is Thy kindness? If unjustly, where then is the lawful judgment? 25 I am set as a target for all, and I am shot at. Let envy at some time cease for us, let it cease at last. By time, by disease, I am worn out, and by the troubles of friends. But if Thou willest not, I come to Thee. Give me Thy hand. I have perished, perished by calamities; but it is for Thee that I perish. 30 For Thou art my God. Do Thou dissolve the darkness of evils for me, a dying man who breathes a little, or who endures a sorrowful life. Why do I toil here, bound by evils, a wrestling-match for envy, and a laughingstock to the many? [alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

Let the splendors of life be for others, but for me, release. You call, you call me. I hasten. Yet I fear the fire, the chasm, the boiling of the rich man. Who will take me and carry me into the bosom of Abraham? I have endured many things in life; I hope for these. If you would release me from here, you know these things for me. But if you would not release me, alas for life! alas for the departure! Why do you hold me, O jailer, me who am free? Christ calls me. Lie here, cast off. Receive me, Savior. Yet there is a need for cleansing. ^A

XC.

On the death of himself and his parents

XCI.

On the tomb of them all

[alt-version omitted]

METRICAL VERSION

Let the things of life be fair for the rest, but for me, let there be an end. You call, you call me; I run, yet I tremble at the dire Fires, the chasm of the rich man, and the burning coals. Who will place me in the bosom of Abraham? Living, I have endured not a few things, but I will endure still. Such things are to be borne, if you do not release me. What is the use of life, if you do not release me? What is the outcome? Why do you wish to hold me captive, when I am free? Now Christ calls me; lie down here, prostrate; Take me, Christ the Savior, who am in need of washing.

XC.

ON THE DEATH OF HIMSELF AND HIS PARENTS. THE POET DESCRIBES THE ORDER IN WHICH HIS PARENTS DIED.

XCI.

ON THE SEPULCHER OF THEM ALL.

XCII. Epitaphium sui ipsius et compendium ipsius vitæ

^AO Christ, my King, why didst Thou bind me in these snares of flesh? Why didst Thou place me in this life, which is my adversary? I was born of a God-fearing father, and of a mother Of no small account; it was through her prayer that I came into the light. 5 She prayed, and consecrated me as an infant to God; and a vision in the night Poured into me a fervent love for purity. This, then, comes from Christ; but finally, I was tossed by storm-waves, I survived by rapacious hands, my body was broken; I found no friendly shepherds, I found them untrustworthy. 10 I was bereaved of my children, withdrawing from my sorrows. This is the life of Gregory; what follows shall be the care Of Christ, the Lifegiver. Inscribe these things upon stones.

XCIII. Aliud in se ipsum

First, God bestowed me upon my brilliant mother, when she prayed. Second, he received me back as a welcome gift from my mother. Third, in turn, as I was dying, the holy table saved me. Fourth, the Word gave me a double-edged discourse. 5 Fifth, virginity embraced me through friendly dreams. Sixth, being of one spirit with Basil, I offered holy things. Seventh, the Giver of life snatched me from the deep abysses. Eighth, He cleansed my hands of ailments. Ninth, I brought the Trinity to the younger Rome, O King. 10 Tenth, I have been smitten with stones, even by my friends.

[index: entries preserved]

METRICAL VERSION

^AXCII. EPITAPHIUM SUI IPSIUS ET COMPENDIUM IPSIUS VITÆ. (Billio interprete.) Cur carnis laqueis tu me, Pater, implicuisti? Cur subsum vitæ huic, quæ mihi bella movet? Divino patre sum genitus, sanctaque parente: Hac mihi lux vitæ namque precante data est. 5 Oravit, summoque Deo me vovit: at ortus Est mihi per somnum virginitatis amor. Ista quidem Christi: post at subiere procellæ: Rapta mihi bona sunt: fracta dolore caro: Pastores sensi quales vix crederet ullus, 10 Orbatusque abii prole, malisque gravis. Gregorii hæc vita est: at Christo postera curæ, Qui vitæ dator est. Exprimat ista lapis.

XCIII. ALIUD IN SEIPSUM. (A. B. Caillau interprete.) Me primo matri Numen concessit amatæ; Munus at inde placens a genitrice tulit. Dein sacra vicino me mensa retraxit ab orco. Sermonem hinc Verbum præbuit ancipitem. 5 Quinto virginitas visis subrisit amicis. Basilio concors inde, nec inferior. Eruit ex altis vitæ hinc largitor abyssis. Octavo morbis dextra lavata mihi. Deinde nova Triada invexi, Rex maxime, Romæ. 10 Me vel charorum denique saxa petunt.

SECTION I. POEMS CONCERNING HIMSELF

^A LA′. Another. My Greece, beloved youth, and all that I possess, And my body, how readily you surrendered them to Christ! If, for that, a mother’s prayer and a father’s hand Set me as a priest beloved of God, what envy is there? But, O Blessed One, 5 Receive me into Your choirs, Christ, and grant glory To the son of Gregory, to Your servant Gregory.

LE′. Another. I held both the name and the throne of my holy father, And his tomb. But, friend, remember Gregory, Gregory, whom Christ gifted to his mother by divine grace. To him He gave, through visions of the night, a longing for wisdom.

LG′. Another. The dear child of Gregory and Nonna lies here, Gregory, servant of the holy Trinity, And he who, possessing wisdom through wisdom, and as a youth, Held only heavenly hope as his wealth.

LZ′. Another. You lived but a short time still upon the earth; yet all things You gave willingly to Christ, and with them your winged eloquence. But now Heaven holds you, a great priest, ^B Within the heavenly choir, O glorious Gregory.

LH′. Another. From my infancy, God called me in nocturnal dreams. I reached the boundaries of wisdom. To the Word, my flesh...

XCIV. Another. My Greece, beloved youth, and whatever I possessed, And my body, how readily you surrendered them to Christ! If, for that, a mother’s supplication and a father’s Hand established me a priest beloved to God, what envy is therein? Truly, O Blessed One, 5 Insert me into Your choirs, Christ, and grant glory To the son of Gregory, to Your servant Gregory.

XCV. Another. I held both the name and the throne of my renowned father, And his tomb. You, friend, remember Gregory: Gregory, whom Christ granted to his mother by divine gift. In night visions, He bestowed upon him the love of wisdom.

XCVI. Another. The dear son of Gregory and Nonna lies here, Gregory, servant of the holy Trinity, And he who by wisdom apprehended wisdom, and as a youth Held only heavenly hope as his wealth.

XCVII. Another. You lived but a little while on earth; yet you surrendered all things Willingly to Christ, and with them your winged eloquence. And now Heaven holds you, O glorious Gregory, A great priest within the heavenly choir.

XCVIII. Another. From my boyhood, God called me in nocturnal dreams. I reached the ends of wisdom. My flesh to the Word...

METRICAL VERSION

XCIV. ANOTHER. (Interpreted by A. B. Caillau) Wealth, body, my Greece, dear youth, Which it was sweet for you to yield to Christ! If a mother’s vows and a father’s hands appointed me a priest, What envy is there? Yet, O gracious One, ^C Insert me into Your choirs, Christ, and provide the gifts of praise As known to the servant of Gregory, Gregory.

XCV. ANOTHER. (Interpreted by A. B. Caillau) Therefore I held the name and the throne of my illustrious parent, And his tomb. Be mindful, good man, of Gregory; Of Gregory whom the Almighty’s right hand gave to his mother, And in the night drew on the love of virginity.

XCVI. ANOTHER. (Interpreted by A. B. Caillau) Here in his tomb lies the son of Gregory and Nonna, Gregory, servant of the consecrated Trinity: He who took up wisdom with wisdom from his earliest years, And accounted only the hope of Heaven as his wealth.

XCVII. ANOTHER. (Interpreted by A. B. Caillau) You lived briefly on earth, but you gave all things To Christ, and along with other gifts, your winged eloquence. The royal court of Heaven now holds you, O illustrious Gregory, As an excellent priest among those on high in their choirs.

XCVIII. ANOTHER. (Interpreted by A. B. Caillau) God called me from my boyhood in the silent night: While yet my flesh and heart alike for me, the first of wisdom...