Poems 0.1–9.32

It is indeed an insult to offer something earthly and rustic to a householder who abounds in the delicacies of the sea; but so that I might have a reason for saying something to your oneness of heart, and might seem to attach some courtesy to this message, I have sent a few fig-peckers out of the very few that the boys bring in at evening. Since I blushed at how few they were, I have added more words besides in little verses, as if I meant to make up the number by talkativeness. But since both are blameworthy, you, by pardoning both kindly and as a friend, will see to it that neither the fewness seems ungracious nor the chatter tiresome.

Take, then, these birds fed in the brambly countryside, which the cunning fowler, lurking under a covering of fern, while he imitates birds and deceives them with a like whisper, hangs up, a trusting troop, on limed twigs. Then, bringing back a slender prey as no small gift, he sets out his catch on boards; and the first row gleams with the plump ones, thinning by degrees toward the bottom of the board. So that leanness may give less offense, the charm of the fattened birds, set in front, pleases eyes that the plump bird has first won over.

That the gift of a poor friend may please you as dear, do not reckon up the rich gifts that you send us. For what worthy return can I make you for those fish which the neighbouring shore supplies you from its wealthy waters, marvellous and distinct in look and shape? But for me, scarcely, in the shallows over the rocky deep, is a rare sphondylus born in the dark seaweed. Sharing from this, I have sent you twice five and twice three shells, fragrant with the nectar of the sea, which their very sweet flesh fills with a two-coloured marrow. I pray you, take them gladly and do not scorn humble things, which are small in measure but measured by great love.

Europe and Asia, the two greatest members of the earth (to which Sallust doubtfully adds Libya as joined to Europe, though it might be called a third), ruled by many whom fame blots out, and whose barbarian names the Roman tongue does not hand down: Illibanus, and the Numidian Avelis, and the Parthian Vonones, and Caranus, who gave the names of kings to Pella, and Nechepsos, who taught the magi vain mysteries, and he who reigned without a name, and soon Sesostris. … he who boldly gave a name to the Icarian sea, and he who with measured flight swam out to the Chalcidian citadels.

Almighty Begetter of all things, who hold supreme power, hear me, if I pray for what is just: let no day be gloomy for me, let no night break my peaceful rest. Let others' goods not please me; rather, let mine be of use to those who ask; let no one have prayers to harm me, or let him have nothing that could harm. Let there be no means of willing ill, and let there be a tranquil power of doing good. Let a mind content with its own, not given to shameful gain, well conscious of a chaste bed, overcome the enticements of the body; and let it hate shameful jests and obscene words, and that guilty tongue, most welcome to malicious ears, ever pouring out its poison. Let me not be afflicted at anyone's death, nor grow rich by a funeral. May I never envy anyone, nor ever lie. Let there be a happy household, and at a feast of unbought food let a well-fed home-born slave play, and a faithful companion, and a neat attendant, and a compliant wife, and dear children from that wife. These things God grants to chaste ways; these ways promise themselves everlasting life in the ages to come.

Supreme Father of all things and eternal power of heaven, and you, Christ, with whom are our salvation and the glory of the saints, and Spirit, joined equally with the Father and the Son, you who rule minds and tongues and supply the strength which faith alone has earned, you who have full power to pour understanding into brute beasts and voice into the mute, grant that John, drawn from the fountain of the gospel, may run down into my songs in a dry stream. He indeed is as great a gift as could be given to the world by him who commanded such a one to be born through new miracles; but it is allowed to spend slight pains on great things, and heavenly things do not disdain humble praise. It is even a share of merit to celebrate the merit of the godly; nor shall I sing now of things new or my own: the prophets told all things beforehand, and holy men in prose made sacred his promised birth, his life and his death, if that was death which earned heaven by blood. I have only vowed to unfold their sayings in tuneful measures and to refresh the minds of readers with verse. So (for it is allowed to compare great things with small, old with new, perfect with unlearned, eternal with perishing), by God's inspiration, whatever earlier men had said David, that venerable name, fitted to the lyre, composing harmonious melodies with a heavenly plectrum. For us too it is right to remember God, and, though our breasts are buried under many sins, to admit a heavenly understanding. Zechariah, once a priest of the Syrian race, cared for the temple entrusted to him with solemn ritual. The man's life, in godliness, faith, gravity, modesty, and obedience, was worthy of God; he had a kindly wife, Elizabeth, born of an ancient stock of holy men, and equal in virtues to so great a husband.

But, what earlier generations counted a reproach to mothers, lacking offspring she led a sorrowful, barren old age, and her years, now past, had shut out all hope of children. It happened that all the people were bringing a solemn offering to God, and the godly high priest had kindled the sacred fires, adorning the inner altar with divine flames; behold, a heavenly messenger stood beside the sacred altar, and, distinguished in dress, venerable in face, proved by his look and bearing that he was sent from heaven; then he opened his holy breast in words like these: “Receive, O priest beloved of the heavenly Lord, the commands of the eternal God, whose care for the godly is perpetual, who, a constant guardian in a pure breast, has known how to bestow on the saints a love they have earned. And first, he does not wish your family to perish here with its seed extinguished, and he has made fruitful the womb of your wife, who was already ceasing in her worn-out age. Why, though, do you also doubt, with a mortal mind, that God can do all things? But you shall believe; he will prove it. There will be born, worthy of so great a guarantor, a blessed and everlasting boy, who from his very first years will hold, beyond his age, sacred strength in an unconquered breast, more by the gift of his Maker than of his begetter. Nor indeed is it your choice or right what first name you give your son; God himself, assuredly, who commands that he be born, commands also that he be John. This title of his name, an immense extension of his merits, he alone could foreknow before he was born who will give him and will grant you joy in so great a son. Nor will he grant it to you alone; glory is small when shut within one house; but as far as the world stretches from the east to the bounded twilight of the late light, the whole world will rejoice with you in your offspring.

What wonder? He will be free of all the dregs of vices, leading a heavenly life without stain or crime, keeping his breast abstinent from maddening wine and avoiding every cup of evil-counselling juice; and though he will promise salvation to the human race, even after its errors, to whoever is renewed by the holy water, he himself will have nothing in himself to be purified. And not to tell you more by varied windings: being a learned priest, you cannot be ignorant of the merit of Elijah, who, released from the law of hateful death, lives an eternal life with his own body, whom a fiery chariot carried to the lofty heaven, borne along by the swift effort of flaming horses; your son will equal him in the pedigree of his merits and will have just as much both of praise and of virtue. So, as fitting thanks for so great a gift, do not keep your faith in suspense, lest the anger of a favouring God, roused, should set a deserved penalty after the rewards.” So he spoke, and winged he glided away into the thin air and filled the air far around with a sacred fragrance. The priest stiffened, confused, with a trembling mind, and while his hesitant heart turned the promise over, while he distrusted that he had earned so great a favour, that he should be the care of the most high God, that a messenger sent down from high heaven should bring to a servant such clear commands from his Lord, and while he fears he is being mocked and thinks it all a dream, while he rates his own character more sparingly than is right and will not own that he has earned it, faith itself makes him faithless; while he will not believe himself worthy, he earns punishment by unbelief.

At once the tongue of the doubter was bound fast to his palate, and, forgetting its own movement, and attempting to shape the sound of the voice, it clung in sluggish numbness, and while he longed to tell his people of the miracles, he strove in vain and was struck dumb, his mouth fixed. He went away sorrowful, turning over the grief shut within his mind, and in his secret heart prayed pardon for his errors. How great is God's kindness, and how easily entreated his divinity! It is enough to have repented. The order of time that brings fulfilment rolls on, and (a wonder) Elizabeth swells with a pregnant womb, and her godly womb carries a holy weight, and a gift of youth comes in a worn-out age. Then holy Gabriel, who had been the same messenger to Zechariah, turning over far greater matters, sets out on another journey, to Mary, who, betrothed to a husband but rather chosen by God to bear the salvation of the world, a chaste virgin, kept her modesty unblemished. When he, distinguished in a form of heavenly beauty, stood before her eyes, she lowered her modest face and her cheeks reddened with a rush of blood. He said: “O maiden, more blessed than all virgins in the world which the sun's circle surrounds, that were before, that are, that shall follow hereafter, chosen by the great God, so that you may be called the mother of him whose Father he also is! Come, happy one, conceive a weight, undefiled by a man and free of all intercourse, made fruitful by the Word of God; let your womb furnish a body for him who made heaven, earth, sea, and stars, who always was, and now is, and in all time will always be the Lord of the world and the creator of light. And he, the very light of heaven, will through you put on mortal limbs and come under the eyes and into the company of men.

Take up a mind undisturbed for the rewards of such great praise; he will give you strength and faith, who has willed (for he rules all things and governs them by his nod) to be your son, though he was the Son of the Lord.” He had spoken, and left at once both her sight and the earth, and with easy effort sought the heaven he was used to. God's commands were fulfilled, and the maiden believed at once, and her ready faith increased her merit and her former life. Hidden elements, by silent causes, form the divine body, and the burden to be hallowed grows; the godly womb cherishes the heavenly Lord. Meanwhile her offspring, though not yet born, urges holy Mary, pregnant, to go out and visit Elizabeth, who, now venerable with long age, was carrying a boy beloved by the Lord, soon to be born. The mother listens to her son (so great is the power of faith) and comes where she is bidden; John stirred his mother's womb and filled her breast with divine understanding. Already a seer though not yet born, shut in the womb, already a prophet, he saw things done before and things to come. When she saw Mary from afar, shining with the light she had conceived, she hurried forward with quick step to meet her, and, reverently stretching out her arms, said: “Hail, O mother of the Lord, hail, godly virgin, free of the marriage bed and knowing no man's union, yet to bear God; so much was it worth to be chaste, that untouched you should bear the titles and rewards of a bride. Why is the honour of this service brought to me, undeserving and unworthy of so great a gift? Why does the glory of heaven, brought into our household and humble roof, carry so great a light into our obscure inner rooms?

But may he be gentle and peaceful to those who worship him, and, once born, grant the favour he has granted before.” She spoke, and clasped her in the embrace of her arms, and, already worshipping God, gave kisses to the godly womb. Come, tell me now, guilty Judea, stained with the blood of your king: if no faith is to be given to the words of earlier men, if you believe that the holy prophets deceive, and Moses himself, if the impious harshness of a perverse nation thinks that David deceives, believe those not yet born; shut in his mother's womb, John teaches through his mother's holy mouth what he sees. Who, I ask, taught him whom the virgin held in her chaste womb, how great a birth awaits the new ages? But hidden things lie open to the holy, and are not seen by the profane. But my wheel has left its track and seeks the broad plains, and, forgetting me, dares to run on too far. I hope there will be a time when, with strengthened power, I may someday drive a strong four-horse team across this field too. Now let us take up again the journey we began; let a mortal page tell mortal things; let divine writings speak of the Lord. And now, the time being completed, as much as nature required, the famous boy was born from a ripe womb, and sure faith fulfilled God's great promises, which, not believed, had brought punishment, and the infant once born proved them. The relatives gathered, coming as is the custom, to fit the boy with a name drawn from the names of ancestors, sought out by comparing reasons; but the mother, aware of the heavenly command through her son, says that the choice has not been left to relatives. So they resolve to consult the father, long silent with his voice shut off; the only means of bringing out the sign the tongue cannot give is if a letter marks it.

He is consulted; he takes the tablets and writes “John.” All marvel, and recall that no one among the earlier ancestors of the family had had this name before. How much faith, though late, availed! Because his right hand marked what his mind had believed, the punishment of his sin was remitted. The bars of his bound tongue were loosed and opened; the old man now answers with his voice and discloses to his relatives the commands of God long hidden, and promises the future while he proves the past. Who would doubt that he would be such a one, whom he saw could be born by the Lord's command, by an unusual birth, with the law of nature set aside? Both the father's punishment and his pardon set before the eyes of all an example of unbelief to be told by all, and fear presses on minds from one side, hope from the other. Meanwhile the time of the cradle slips by; even in it a clear appearance of divine vigour stands out. Coaxings and laughter are silent, uncertain babblings cease; a seriousness that runs ahead of playful sense already shapes his tender face for the character to come. Then, when the boy had planted his first steps with steady effort and words had marked out sure speech, it was his custom either to listen to the sayings of his holy father, or to learn by heart the famous deeds of the ancients, or the laws which God himself had established through Moses as interpreter, which the page of sacred stone preserves. These things, and others that might strengthen his tender mind, he handled and went over again; for he is not to be thought ignorant of the past, to whom the Lord had given to know the future. But after strength came to his limbs with age (for his mind, full of God, had outrun his slow years), he then resolved that he must learn what men cannot teach, and at the same time flee the contagions of food and drink, harmful to a holy life.

So he leaves the house of his holy father, though spotless, and flees the crowds of men and their guilty gatherings, and makes for lonely lands, for trackless places, in which his undefiled mind might see only itself and, free from cares, give itself to sacred precepts. His clothing was woven of the bristles of the humped camel, so that against luxury he might harden his soft limbs and, with his body pricked, keep off heavy sleep. A cheap girdle bound it round his rigid loins. Wild honey supplied his easy food, and fruits, and herbs sprung up on untilled rocks, and running water relieved his parched thirst. What room is there here for vices? What entrance has wicked desire found among these things into the inner sanctuary of the holy mind? Wherein can he sin who desires nothing? How can he tend toward the hiding places of wrong feeling who lacks nothing? So lived the first men, and when the world was new the Maker had given them these ways for the ages to come, until evil-counselling pleasure thrust itself in and brought luxury with it and the love of possession. Hence hatreds, hence quarrels, hence fraud, hence envy and anger, slaughter, arms, blood, conflict, battles, deaths; hence the offense against God, which savage Tartarus will expiate. But why do I rebuke too much the common faults, forgetful of myself, whom it befits not to burden others with misdeeds but to hope for pardon? Rather we shall more rightly marvel at the unconquered example, which no one in the old age could imitate, of a man who surpassed human limits by toil, a half-divine man, who, free from every stain, though he tormented his body with such harsh penalties, laid down what befits us, even after sins.

But after, strengthening his unconquered mind through such things, he had spent a long time and had settled as found the things that were to be sought, a voice came to him from heaven: “Enough time has now been spent, beloved prophet, in which you have profited yourself; it is time that the gifts you know were given you should profit others and save what is already lost. Go, then, to the holy waters of the pure Jordan. There whoever among men repents of the misdeeds of his former life and at last turns over better things in his mind, wash him, once he has confessed; whoever with faithful mind believes you that misdeeds are blotted out by the godly washing, he shall be reborn, if only such a life follows as proves that the washed have condemned their former life.” John obeyed what he heard with a servant's mind at once, and went down to the banks of the river as commanded. Here he preaches God's precepts with awe-inspiring speech and pours new salvation into the hearts of believers. He washes away the crimes of believers with the waters poured on them, and frees men from fears and remits penalties, and quenches fire with water, urges forgetfulness of errors, and furnishes new bodies for a new life. O Father, O eternal creator of men and of things, by how many steps your kindness spares! What father ever bears to forgive a straying son so often? You give the race understanding, by which they may know good and evil. Not enough: you bind on them the bonds of a law to be kept, and set out penalties for the wicked and rewards for the just. Whoever has scorned these too, let him return whenever he pleases; pardon is at hand; see, the holy washing lies open, which renews life and blots out old deeds and makes men new. What more do we seek?

And yet there is a further pardon, if anyone, having fallen, violates this gift too with a polluted body. Although his error has already gone very far, let him stop and return. When he has condemned himself, he has earned absolution; if he repents, the guilt is void. O truly, as you say, the burden is light, and the yoke that is fastened on is sweet, when one man is forgiven so often; and yet we stray, and there is no end of crime for the human race. But your praise grows; for the greater the guilt of the accused, the greater the glory of the one who spares. So let every mind return thanks to you, and every tongue sing, and as far as the human race can, if it cannot please, let it at least labour to be grateful. An immense deep lies open, if we spread our sails, for your praises, kind Father; but my mind, aware of so great a burden, trembles, and, not unaware of its own strength, takes counsel and leaves what must be said to worthier men. Let us return to what we began: this work is yours, holy John, by which you renew pure minds when the body is washed. It was not first given by that word of the Lord by which he admonished you, sending a clear voice through the clouds; many ages earlier God had spoken by the mouth of the holy prophet Isaiah, the greatest of the old age: “I will send before your eyes, O Son, a servant, who, clearing the tangles of thorny paths, will make lofty mountains sink down before your steps and will likewise make low valleys rise up; he will make straight what is crooked and smooth the rough, will soften the hard, and will force the whole world to become level.” Is it you, I pray, gift of the most high Father, kindly John, promised together with Christ, who come, and does he count you as his own, he who sent his Son? Are you, O you foretold by the prophets, the one who shares the honour of the angelic name?

Through you the mercy of God first shows itself; to you was first granted the power of giving pardon. When the crowds of the new people sought many miracles, Christ said of you: “It has been granted to see such a prophet as no ages before have seen. I tell you, I who alone know what has been done and what is to be done: among the children whom woman has borne to mortals, and whom she will bear, created in the usual way of men, there will be none who can be preferred to John.” This is what he says of you who sees through every inmost part of the human heart and all the stretches of the ages in order, as we see what is set before our eyes.

Blessed is he who has set his life far apart from the gatherings of the impious, and has not stayed in the way of sinners, nor sat in the pestilent chair, but, fixed with his whole heart on the law of God, has turned over its precepts of life by night and by day and cultivates his mind with chaste teachings. He will be like a tree which, near the river, is fed by the moisture that nourishes the bank, and, full, will yield its fruit in its season, and, ever green with leaves that never fall, will stand, a living wood with everlasting foliage. This glory will not attend the wicked; but as the wind snatches the ash of dust, so wrath will sweep the wicked from the face of God. Therefore the flocks of men scattered over the world will be divided in this order: the impious, who denied God the worship due to him, will not rise again to be judged, but to be punished; for evident crime will need no inquiry to uncover it, since they will show the mark of impending death, not bearing on their foreheads the sign of salvation. But the sinner who is not, however, also impious, and these are a great crowd, will not rise to glory, but will rise to be assigned to examination. For he cannot sit as judge with the godly, since he is to render account of his own acts and, according to his varied deeds, be either approved or found guilty. Those ignorant of the law will fall everywhere without law; he who has fallen under the law will be judged by the law. The fire will run through every work as arbiter;

what the flame has not burned up but tested will be repaid with an everlasting reward. He who has done things fit to be burned will suffer loss, but he himself will fly out of the fires saved; yet, wretched, with the marks of his scorched body, he will keep life; he will not keep glory. Because, overcome by the flesh yet not turned away in mind, even if he has refused the law the faith he owed it, often rolling down through many crimes, yet bearing the eternal name of faith, he will never be exiled from the bounds of salvation. Therefore let all of us now in this age, while time runs and the day of life lies open, walk straight paths with firm foot and not be carried down the slippery broad road; it is better, struggling along the narrow track, to enter by toilsome efforts. God gladly acknowledges the ways of the good, but the downhill road of the impious will be destroyed.

Why did the nations rage, and why did the peoples devise vain things? The chiefs, driven along with the kings, took their stand against the Lord and his Christ, raging madly: “Let us break their chains, let us shake off their yokes.” He who abides with eternal governance over all the heavens will laugh at them and speak in just anger, and threatening with a terrible word will confound the wicked: “But I, made king by him with equal dominion, proclaim the Lord's precept upon kindly Zion.” The Lord himself said to me: “You are my Son, and today I have begotten you. Ask; be my heir among the nations, and let your possession be established in all lands. You have a rod of iron, because by mighty right you rule the swelling peoples in the whole world, breaking hearts like vessels shaped from clay, that you may re-form them better, fired anew.” And now, behold, all you kings, give heed with humbled minds, and whoever among men govern servant hearts by judgment and hold the reins of affairs: serve God trembling, and, faithful, rejoice with fear mixed in; let there be a harmonious discord, uniting unlike feelings in one breast, so that fear may not crush minds nor joys dissolve them, if, fearful through dread of death, they should lack joy. Speak justice and take up upright ways, and tremble before God as just, rejoice in him as kind, lest at any time God be angry with a world that deserves it, and you, driven from the just way, justly perish. From now on hasten to leap back from the unjust way; behold, when shortly the great anger of the Mighty One has blazed up, so that he winnows the whole world with divine sifting and separates the chaff for the fire, the grain for salvation, then all who have a faithful hope in him will be blessed.

We sat by the unknown rivers of dread Babylon, captives, a band of Judah, weeping piteously, as we drew our fathers' Zion with remembering heart and sighed over an exile deserved by just wrath, where the bank, planted with pliant willows, offered friendly shade to the peoples who were its guests. There, within the walls of the Assyrian city, forgetting joyful sounds in sorrowful silence, we hung our instruments on the branches of the willows. For heavy wrath gave us hard grief, because that impious enemy who had led us away from home commanded us to sing for his pleasure these songs that used to be poured out in the holy temple. Shall we then sing the divine praises and songs fit for chaste choirs amid barbarous rites and foul tombs and among altars kindled with deadly fires, alas, to those wrongly glad at our grief, and make wicked luxury out of godly ritual, setting mystic songs to an enemy's sport? With what mouth shall we wretched sing sacred hymns now? In what place does Babylon demand for itself the songs of Zion? But a foreign land cannot deserve the song of the Lord; the sacred voice turns away from unworthy ears. Yet if, as a more violent master, you press upon captives, and if you have so great a love of knowing the godly songs of Zion, if you go on forcing me to speak what is not yours and to tell you what the divine songs of Zion are, hear what God the avenger promises the captured city, so that you may not hope to rejoice long in that triumph, impious one, by which you order the sacred hymn to be brought out for you; behold, what the hymn of the Lord is, what the songs of Zion are:

“If I forget my walls, you, my care, city of Jerusalem, may my right hand never remember me, and may my tongue cling dry to my throat, unless I embrace you with eternal love, and unless, at the beginning of the kingdom promised for the ages and in the first year of my joy, I remember to set you, Jerusalem, before all lands. Remember then the children of Edom, so that, the tables turned, confounded, they may behold our day, when your people will inhabit glorious Jerusalem with eternal walls, against which a race forgetful of you now threatens cruel destruction, saying: ‘Tear down utterly the hated city and empty it by force, until no traces are left, the walls reduced to nothing.’ Unhappy daughter of wretched Babylon, happy is he who shall repay you on our behalf for your deeds against us. Nor will he be less blessed who will seize your little ones and at once dash your offspring against the solid rock.” If you desire to be blessed by extinguishing Babylon's stock, break by faith the sins that swell within you in their first flames. The rock, Christ, is at hand; on him dash the viper's brood with strong arms. For Babylon's name means confusion; her daughter is the flesh, mother of sins, a crowd harmful to salvation, which draws evil seeds through the fibres of the body. These you must conquer, if you wish to conquer death; for such enemies shut up in your bones, if they are allowed to gain strength by growing, you will conquer only with a hard struggle; seize them while small, while the infancy of vices, raw from the womb of the heart, still creeps with tender limbs through the captured breast. Unless you forestall them, the earthly offspring, grown in strength, will kill the soul that agrees with the vices. So do not spare to slay such a troop. It will be no crime for you to destroy a race that would harm you and to drench the avenging rock with evil blood; for the just man rejoices if the impious offspring falls; for the godly man is more and more cleansed by this slaughter, if he kills the sins that rule in his members and, the people of vices broken in Christ, triumphs.