文集 第 1 章

Christ here is the flower, here the beauty and the everlasting fount. Him, after the Virgin, full of God, had conceived by the word of the lofty Godhead, she brought forth from her chaste womb, and a new infant shone upon the rejoicing earth. At once a brighter light filled the whole world. From above the stars gaze, beholding his holy countenance, and now the heaven envies the earth so great an honor. But the earth, smiling, rejoices in the sacred shoot. It strews the ground with violets out of season, and the meadow sends up from the turf as many purple flowers. All things gleam with festival: the sea rejoices, the clouds, the winds; only you, treacherous serpent, tremble with fear. That day saw you sick with paling venom, shaking your head and gnawing your dread breast, because salvation had come from heaven to earth.

because a guardian had come, seeking from the black jaws the peoples to be saved. You bewail the people snatched from your wounds, and with mournful howling you pursue the life of men and the salvation of the world. Meanwhile too the risen star of the lofty Godhead appears in the heavens and fills the lands with light. The Magi recognized the star and sought the cradle. They bring sacred gifts, both myrrh and sweet frankincense; the frankincense reveals God, the myrrh marks out the one to be buried. Hail, true offspring of God, child sent from heaven, of no common race nor brought forth by our customs; pledge of an unwed mother and offspring of a chaste womb, and wondrous infant of an untouched virgin — although she vaunts herself a mother by a holy name, having imitated the swelling of a certain pregnant belly, and displays your cradle and greets you with a smile.

Yet a virgin she is, and a mother, and without a great spouse, she knows not the cause of her offspring, but she knows the joys. You are the work of the sacred Word, begotten from the Father's mouth, the rich Word-born one, the marvelous shoot of the tongue, and a race commingled of heaven and earth, that mightily the care both of heaven and of earth at once might move you. You by valor a lion, you to gentle minds a lamb; you the stay and sword of the Father; you the right hand of the Most High. Judge of the living, judge also of those bereft of light. The Father deigns to call you alone Son, the sole common care of the parents; you alone by right the heir of such great goods. This one you once promised to the earth, O Father, in varied imagery of things foretold, through the songs of the Kings, and through the voices of the prophets, through the stars of heaven, through your Seraphim and Cherubim.

Now let it be lawful to unfold the lofty secrets of heaven: for four living creatures of varied forms surround the high throne. The first is the face of a man; another is the mouth of a lion; then the head of an eagle and of a calf. To all these there are wings, and they are divided in their duties; for the greatest of them ever veil the face of the Most High God and screen his flashing countenance, lest the excessive blaze of the lightning do harm and the sacred gaze smite the world as with a thunderbolt; and the others likewise wrap the sacred footsteps, lest perchance the fiery force set ablaze the pressed-down lands; and then twos by threes flit through the ramparts of the world and bear golden wings; and with much light the ever-watchful cities learn both deeds and prayers. By these forms, doubtless, the image of Christ is shown. For Christ is both a man, the taster of bitter death,

and by valor a lion, to cut down the unlearned with the sword; and a calf, since he is the victim of a sinning world, who is well offered up for all as a sacrifice for the lands. What of the eagle? What form do you seek after these? The sacred bird leaves its prey to heaven; exulting, that one shall be Christ, who shall set among the stars him whom he has snatched from the earth; for there in the heavens he, good by his gentle intercession, conceals the wounds of sinners, mitigates the heavier ones of the fathers, and tempers for the earth the angered fire. You who, bearing pardon for the earth-born, yourself propagating it; and you, great Father, calm with love toward your Son, seated upon a lofty throne, beholding the lofty works; as it were the form of the ocean sea and of the glassy element; then the elder choir, skilled in hymn, serves the Lord, a band of twice-twelve men, and with white locks;

crowns of ruddy gold pressed down their hair, and a white robe, a gentle garment, enwrapped their shoulders; rising up they often lay down the bands of their heads, singing you as Lord with their tongues, with harmonious voice: 'Holy, holy God, fiery Strength, exalted Lord of Sabaoth!' And the race of men celebrates you with frequent speech. You the flocks and the birds sound forth, you the mute things speak, you every grove sings, the hills and the lowly vales; you the winds resound, the wave of the sea murmurs of you. With varied rite of sacred things, and in temples dedicated, in an enclosed grove, in temples carved of marble, with images set up of hollow bronze and with vain painting, the nations and peoples worship you; to you they take up vows and prayers, and they seek your divinity and your name. And just as one wanders in the darkness, from whom the light has been taken away:

he feels that a man is present; who he is, where at last he stands, he knows not, and in ignorance he flings his arms through the empty air, to see if he might grasp him and at least come up to the touch: not otherwise the nations, driven by blind errors, seek the one set before their eyes; but bereft of light, they leap over the very one whom they seek; they catch at ludicrous things, and set up varied images, and impose a thousand names upon one, if perchance, called upon, he might be present. A heavier guilt presses those before whose very eyes the true Teacher himself has stood; whom by his mouth he has addressed, whom he has admonished by prayer, by words, whom at last by deeds. Yet, blind, they could not see, though the light was present, plain among the peoples, glorifying the Father by his deeds.

For there lay a man, withered with paling face, whose body was loosened in its frame by diseases, and the limbs of a living soul had now long since been as dead. 'Rise,' he says, 'and now be the bearer of your own bed.' He leaps up and, alert, himself carries the couch upon his shoulders. Behold, a blind man was being led, whom his mother had borne deprived of light, lacking the common day, not wholly born, since he was wanting in a part of the world. When he saw him, he had compassion and said: 'I bid that this man see!' At once the blind man lifts to heaven his new eyes.