I, who chose in song the Muses that dwell in the countryside, and titled the rosy breezes with the flowers of spring, and ripened the heavy ears of the summer harvest, cut the swollen grapes from the autumn vines, and ever praised the peaceful olives of winter, and drew forth measured waters from the springs, and sang of leafy woods amid the wandering grass — now at once I shall sing of the ethereal shores of light. Now let it be granted me to touch the light-bearing Muses, to unveil the hidden nymphs at the river's crest, and the joyful woods set beneath another star;
and at the same time I shall commemorate in song the eternal flames; whence the boundless sea heaves its swelling waves; what power moves the solid earth to tremble; and whence the golden light first shone forth upon the new-made world; who could fashion man from joyful clay; whence the race could grow up in the empty age; and what varied desire of living belongs to a people; what offspring of dying was first created by evil; whence comes the sweet fragrance and blush of rosy garlands; what makes the vine seethe with joyful grapes, and how the new barley grows milky in tender stalks, how the tree buds with black olives amid the ice; who grants increase of greenness to the varied buds, tender as they are, and shields the mother-tree with the shade of her children.
It is good to know all things that are the beginnings of the branches, so that through all things one may acknowledge the true God, who prepared the light, the seas, the heaven, and the earth, and adorned the new world with a varied array of stars, and first bade the cattle and the birds come forth, and granted the sea's waves to be filled with fish, and drove the sands, made fruitful, with living creatures. Such songs I shall spin out with well-ordered Muses, and set forth for us the wholesome water from the springs, and the glad rain that comes from peaceful clouds, flowing deep and freely into the souls of men — this I shall receive in full streams upon our new-plowed fields.
Now come, touch the safe and living nymph, and swiftly draw the easy draught of life, if any man wishes to escape the punishments of the eternal flame — one ignorant of the day and unaware of the age to come — and rather to obtain the rewards of a righteous life:
[Remember] this one God alone, and him alone to be prayed to, who set the whole world in a balance beneath its threshold; who, remaining eternal and ever to be throughout all ages, holds all the ages and alone existed before the ages, God unbegotten and without end; who alone possessing the divine throne ever towers above the lofty heavens; who alone is almighty, whom all things obey; who fashioned man well-pleasing to himself for the age, gave him to be shepherd of the cattle and lord of the beasts, granted him right over the birds, and the sea alone to be ruled; who by his word alone could stretch out the heaven and by his word bade the solid earth hang, and quicker than a word divided the sea's wave; who loved to fashion this dear form with his hands and willed his own comely image to dwell within it, and breathed upon its face the life-giving breath of the Spirit.
How great the gifts of the world God granted to man, and how he set upon them the exceedingly sweet pledge of his love, and bestowed useful and precious commands of salvation, that man should touch nothing beyond the warning: one thing only, whereby he might know evil and at once discern the right — the unlawful apple — he forbade him to touch. He gave under man's dominion the lands and the living soul, the winged kind, the cattle, every kind of beast, and the kind of the sea, all swimming creatures. But since, transgressing the law by the first crime, the first man was already changing the Lord's commands, with his wife urging every evil, he was perishing through death. For the woman first committed the evil of sin and, herself betrayed, deceived her husband against the law. Forgetful of God, he rashly dared such great things.
Eve, wickedly persuaded, opened the gates to death and, together with her race, created ruin utterly for herself. Hence — o horror! — death flowed out into the unwary age. Thence the deep crime spread abroad the more easily, and harsher toil more savagely stirred up the year. The cunning serpent injected this with wicked envy. Thence more and more the many crimes of evil peoples, and their unspeakable deeds brought forth seeds by evil doings.
And therefore God alone, to whom belongs the highest power, and who holds the loftiest summits above the high heaven, dwelling on high in inaccessible light for the ages, mindful of the past and foreknowing the future beforehand, keeps for eternity the decreed offspring of merit; and all the souls that govern the sluggish bodies and move man by reason, wandering through his limbs — as soon as, the weight of the members laid aside, they depart, and, freed and light, go forth from their earthly bonds and seek their own shores in different regions — some are at once shut up in hidden darkness, but others are straightway called back to the joyful breezes, kept deep within for the decreed rewards of the law, until the bodies rise again from death with their members:
[men must consider that] now they must weigh the interest owed upon their former life, and stand mindful of God's judgments upon their former deeds, each awaiting his own punishment from his own crime — or else must perish utterly in the nameless condition of cattle and pour out weeping to God in vain, to no end. Or is almighty God, under whose nod all things are ruled, unable after death to restore life? Or does the Lord seem incapable of anything at all? If he could shut out the bright light with darkness, and could compose the whole mass by his word, and prepare all things from nothing by his powerful voice, why should he not be able to reconstruct from something the well-known figure that once existed, that had lived before, and bid a form like its own rise again? Since all things are God's, the earth all the more restores everything; being commanded, it will call back whatever it once covered over.
If perhaps the flame consumed someone laid to rest upon the pyre, or the sea cast someone down among its blind waves; if the entrails of a fish sated anyone's hunger, or wild beasts fastened cruel death upon his limbs; if the blood lay exposed to the birds when the body was snatched away — yet the final rites will not deny anyone to the Lord: the dead must appear alive to God out of death, and men must stand having taken up their own figures again. So the dry seeds are entrusted to the turned earth and rot away dead deep in the fixed furrows; thence the stalk is quickened with restored ears, and again the sturdy crops grow golden with living grains, and new harvests rise up with varied increase.
All the stars set, and being born again shine anew; and the day dies with its light into the thick night; and the night sets into day when things are uncovered by the light, and the lofty day rises again in its own stars; and the sun sets and is brought back with its clear light from above; the light perishes when evening comes over the shadowed world, and it returns and renews joys for the whole age. So the phoenix, burned, lives from its own funeral, and at once the bird rises again from its own pyre; and the tree, stripped of its leaves, bears fruit in its season and again bends its branches with the bud of fruit. Therefore, when at the divine voice the world trembles, and the powers of the high air are deeply stirred, then there comes an unwonted crash and the mightiest rumblings of heaven, as God sets them in motion and the Judge of the world approaches.
Straightway countless ministers run together to go forth, and encircle God with heavenly majesty. The angelic hosts descend far and wide upon the lands, all messengers of God, who have a surpassing divine power and beauty, all spirits of virtue. Theirs is a fiery vigor; their bodies are the glowing bodies of heaven; the divine force flashes. Hence the whole world murmurs; hence the trembling earth, wholly, deep within, bellows back, giving birth to the men whom, being commanded, it must render up. The attendants marvel, and at length the clouds are thrown into confusion; the amazed stars suddenly quail before the Power on high. Hence, at God's command, easily and with a mighty voice, straightway the tombs are broken open throughout all realms, and all the ground pours out bones from its wide-gaping openings, and the open sand belches forth living peoples.
The limbs cling to their hair, the bones are knit together with marrow, and the sinews, joined together, govern the breathing bodies; and at once the veins are set in motion, infused with blood, and the released souls are restored to the open hollows, and all the members, rising, seek again their own organs. O wondrous faith! Hence every age springs forth; the ancient throng springs from the dust of the dead. Mothers and men rise again as the light is regained — great-hearted young men, boys and unwed girls; and the deceased old men stand there with living souls; and the world resounds, groaning with the wailings of infants; and varied nations come from the lowest dwellings — the bands of the East and those whom the farthest land beholds, those who inhabit the middle zones in the sloping clime, and those who hold the Riphaean heights of the frozen constellation.
Every fearful dweller from each land's end is present — peasant and soldier, and kings with their diadems laid aside, the rich man mingled with the poor in one equal throng. High trembling everywhere; now the world groans with prayers, and the peoples, stretching out their hands, marvel with a great cry. The Lord himself, seated, bright with eminent light and most mighty, flashes as fire amid all the powers, and gleams upon his lofty throne, upon his heavenly seat, encircled by martyrs, by a shining number of men, and stands accompanied by his blessed prophets, whose bright temples shine with snow-white fillets. And now the priests are present in gleaming garments, bearing the glowing crowns, the rewards of life, and all, bowed low with bended knees, adore. 'God alone is holy, holy' — one cry belongs to all.
Hence the Lord will bid the twofold people to take their stand, and commands that the just be separated from the number of the wicked, and bids them, clothed with vigor now that death is vanquished, ever to possess the unextinguished breath of light, to walk through the ancient, ever-flowering kingdoms, through rich groves and ever-pleasant green places, to pass a perpetual life in a glorious body. There is a place, dear to the Lord, on the Eastern shores, where the clear light shines and a more wholesome breeze breathes, and there is eternal day and unchangeable time, and a region set apart for God, most rich in its fields, and an exceedingly blessed abode upon the serene pole. The air is ever glad, and ever to be in light, gentle; and the wind breathes life-giving blasts. The bountiful earth bears all things equally from its fruitful soil.
The flowery purple blazes upon the balanced meadows; all things, ungrudging, mingle a bright-glowing light; each glad flower clothes another's garment with its own radiance. Here the rosy fields are dappled with snow-white seed, and the snow-white plains are curled with rosy flowers. You could not tell by which those fields grow more beautifully sweet, or in which the ethereal breeze breathes more happily, which is fairer in appearance or excels more in honor. Never are their like born in flower-bearing gardens; no such lilies have bloomed in our fields; nor do our plains blush thus the moment the rose unfolds; nor is purple so steeped with Tyrian red. The gem gleams beautiful with colored stones: here the prase shines, there the carbuncle burns, and the emerald stone pours forth glittering lights.
Here too the cinnamon is born on fragrant twigs, and the amomum blazes joyful with its green leaf. Here lies the inborn gold of radiant light, and the sky, soothing the lofty groves with its flowering crest; and the most fruitful buds weigh down the greening branches. India never put forth groves like these; the green pine does not raise its tops so densely, nor does the quivering cypress so curl its lofty foliage, nor does the spring branch bloom better in its season. Here, otherwise, the lofty dark trees bloom at their crests, and these woods alone are ever green, without hail. No leaves fall, no flower fails in its season; with compacted strength the tree is green and grows purple. But I think that flower is a rose — the blush in it is equal, so too its appearance, and it breathes such a fragrance upon its leaves.
The most beautiful tree stands with its flower amid new fruits, and the happy trunks thicken the vital produce. Rich honeys blaze upon the greening branches; milk too flows, drinkable, in full streams. There life breathes in whatever the holy earth makes green, and at once in whatever blooms from the blessed bud; and the healing soil is fragrant with the beauty of Cretan earth. There a placid spring pours over the fields in a full stream, and thence four divided rivers water the lands. Spring, I think, holds sway forever, the air clothed with flowers. No cold of the winter star varies the breezes, nor does radiant summer flash with oppressive heats. The sky tempers the breezes with its serene light and refreshes the fruitful earth with a better breath. There is no night there; its own stars ward off the darkness.
Wraths and treacheries are absent, and dread desire; fear is shut out, and cares are driven from the threshold. Hence the evil man is banished, an exile, to the farthest shores, and toil is forbidden to touch the blessed bounds. There ancient faith rests in its chosen seat. Justice, rejoicing, lives in an eternal covenant, and secure salvation delights in the peaceful breezes, ever destined to live and ever to be in the light.
Here whoever is a devout dweller of the right and the good, and who feared God the Thunderer with an innocent mind, and honored his parents with holy piety, and ever kept a holy life without crime; or who, whenever he consoled the needy with friendly wealth and greatly aided the toiling poor — the helper of the pauper, wont to save orphans, who rescued the harmed and came to the aid of those pressed by false accusation, who gave to guests the pledges of his beloved table, who performed all his duties by the divine commands, who harmed no one and coveted nothing of another's — all these, exulting, render up their voices to the stars with divine praises and prayers together; singing psalms to the Lord, they celebrate thanks amid their joys, and will walk the blessed way with angels for their companions.
After the Lord has completed these happy gifts and likewise dismissed the just into the eternal kingdoms, the pitiable crowd also comes, mourning its own crimes. A groan arises; all grieve with strangling tears and attest their deeds with frequent howls. They tremble before the impending weapons of the flame, [dealt] according to their deserts. The angels seize them and now forbid them to pray, and forbid them to pour out the late voices of repentance, and now, as the flame comes, the pardon of prayers is denied. O wretches, how often did the divine power become known to you, how often was the majesty of the truth made manifest! You heard the sounds, you saw the lightnings of heaven; constantly you experienced the rains and the wraths of winds and hail — how often the serene nights and days! The seasons made themselves fruitful with the bounties of God's gifts:
Spring abounded in roses; nor did summer fail in produce; autumn offered varied mellow fruits; and always the icy winter ripened the glad olives. God bestowed all things, and no goodness was lacking — and yet, through all these gifts, the whole human race did not know God. The earth trembled before God; the sea hung still at God's nod; and the trembling river flowed back over dry sands; and all creation joyfully confesses God through all things. Yet you denied this Lord of heaven and earth, and rather slew the just with cruel slaughter, and most of you often put God's heralds to flight. In you the truth ever clung as though it were a crime. And therefore you shall reap the fruit of your sowing, you wicked ones! Behold, you now know the day which you are wont to mock. You shall go into the deep darkness of fire and sulphur, to suffer, by burning, savage wraths amid torments.
The Lord bids these depart to eternal punishment, to go beneath the burning of Gehenna, ever without end, their whole mass to be driven through the seething torrents of flame. He bids the threatening elements be turned into flames, and all the fire of heaven to descend from the clouds. Then greedy Tartarus lets loose the rushing fires, and the seas will belch stormy flames, and the whole earth is confounded with glowing embers, and the fiery air will brandish its angry furrows, and the burning world will be armed with every torch; with hellish onslaught the conflagrations gnash upon the world. Those men, driven, are lifted into the headlong heat; here they flee, thence they are borne back by a sharp course. The savage wrath of the flame confronts them as they flee, and now they recognize their own punishment from their crime.
And now the wandering land, possessed by no husbandman, and pressed beneath the farthest deep of the sea — where the sun, having traversed the heaven, bounds its rays, and the risen stars are hidden when the world has passed away — the air swells with thick darkness, its light concealed; there are the farthest flaming pools with their hidden streams. There is a fiery nature to the place, marked out for punishments, and the lowest marsh, glowing white with infernal fires, thunders; the penal region is borne along with horrific furnaces, and the river, troubled by its swift eddy, seethes with flames, rushing into torments with its surging gulf. All the parched sand is mingled with mire. Hither the captive, groaning crowd of the wicked will be sent, and the throng of the guilty body doomed to burn — o horror! There is a great wailing, with weeping joining the outcry, and a raging shriek;
thence the howling of the suffering will rise up from afar out of the flame, and the deep groaning of the burning fire mounts into the airs. Then the human offspring pays for its evil deeds, and they will begin to stretch late prayers toward heaven, and now they wish to know the God whom they had refused to know. There each will confess the savagery of his life, his guilty hands and minds fierce with crime, and will attest the unspeakable savagery of his own life. First of all, whoever had before ill-perceived God, and had worshiped stones with a feigned deity, and had consecrated altars bloodied with idols, and feared painted figures without voice, and adored the thin shadows of a false godhead; and whomever wicked error led straightway astray; if anyone was an adulterer; whoever had slain his own children —
if anyone lived in any evil with a guilty mind, or had gone about by plunder or by the fraud of a dependent; if anyone stained his palms with human blood and brewed poisons with hidden death; then if anyone defiled his heart with empty theft, or rejoiced in the unjust gain of another's harm; whoever committed any wickedness whatsoever of evils — the deep burning will torture them with bitter fire, and all shall pay the penalty in a living death, thus grieving to preserve the whole crowd of men [in torment]. How often did the holy prophets sing these things, and, often warned by the Spirit of God, foretell things to come? Thus almighty God willed his rewards to be known, and the threats of the law thus laid down, by sending many to cry out heavenly words.
Finally, at God's command the prophet fitted the bones together, and marveled at the tombs suddenly moved not of their own accord — that bodies made of scattered ashes had lain there — and then wondered at the living rising up as the soul came, and stretching their palms to heaven with their own voice. Those bodies indeed sought again their silent graves and yielded to the future day appointed by God to be kept: for a little while he bade them be held in the deepest resting-places, until that great day should arrive when the time is fulfilled. All of you, acknowledge the true Lord, who alone can make the soul ascend to the light and can likewise thrust the same down into the Tartarus of punishment, and to whom all the power of life and death lies open. For with God, to will is enough to be able, and the deed is done by his speaking. That God of mine alone is to be feared in the depths of our senses.
And since every course is closed by death, whatever a man is today, his life will be borne away with him. And therefore, while life remains, while it is allowed to pluck the light, while it is permitted to repent, before the boundary of the age seizes the unwary and that last day of death, which is held by inescapable law, looses the unknowing eyes — do what most of all remains: keep watch over your dear salvation, and, ready and sure, turn your course toward the good. After your wanderings and the expiations pressed with sacred rites, and after the wandering storms that too greatly troubled you, enter the straight ways and hold to the glad rivers. Hence first, with glad souls, drive away crime, and let the guilt long ingrained be washed from your breast; then, being gentle, abolish the unspeakable deeds of evil committed, and appease with eternal prayers the dread God; let all the worst yield to the good, mortal things to the living.
Wherefore keep now a new life free from crime, and keep devout minds in the true Name, and, as suppliants, ask pardon for your first offenses. Now let pure hearts ripen for their devout husbandmen; lift up harmless hands with righteous prayers, and readily render up your voices in the divine praises; and let minds begin to grow accustomed to good and true things, and let the gifts of the divine law be the more celebrated; remember good things, and at once set about good deeds. Let the once-filthy crimes of the wicked grow bright, and all better things will glow for you devout ones; and at once life is freed from dreadful perils and will come to eternal rewards by its own vows.