Malkǝʾ-hymn to St George

Salutation to the memory of your name, which is the tablet of the beauty of his book, which blesses all and which makes sweet the story of George the warrior of the calves, his secret. May your salutation and your help rest upon me. Not for the sake of the learned, but for the sake of the one who leaps. Salutation to your form, anointed with the oil of the blood of martyrdom, which was chosen when your head was cut off by the sword of the suffering of George the fighter. My soul stands without my lips finishing your name, martyr. At the time of distress, tell me, “I am here with you.” Salutation to your head, which they struck with a sword until your jaw was shattered like that of a slaughtered one, George the fighter of Cappadocia. Star, hasten to my aid at the time of distress and danger, to help your beloved son, as a father runs. Salutation to your face, which the tyrants covered with the dust of a vile prison. Whenever I called your name in every place, your face ran. The sleep of the tooth until the horn is blown. “The stone says, ‘George, our teacher.’

Salutation to your eyebrows, the letters of the torments, which have passed through the course of the seven years until George the warrior of the calves passed. For patience, which is consoled for my soul with your soul, as if it reaches the harbor, I desire a wish and I seek hope. Salutation to your eyes, which were darkened for seeing the marvel of Diocletian the torturer when your body was cast into the lime pit, pure like the measure of the hand of the sun, the calf of the second heaven. From the place of corruption, save me also, George the warrior. Salutation to your ears, George my teacher. The beasts of the forest speak to me while in the mouth of peace, as if you hear and you destroy those who in secret have desired me. Between my ear and your ear, let it be for me. Salutation to your cheeks, which poured forth blood like a wave when your head was struck in Sephulia, noble George the captive. In the midst of the blows, I have taken refuge in your torment which you received in the arena. May your intense suffering be the ransom for my sins.

Salutation to your nostrils, which have rejected the stench of the foul idol, the incense of the offering that George the warrior of the dragon ascended. The pure censer, which has been kindled like a fire from my nostrils, which has slain the enemy of the dragon. May the abundance of your help be in my mouth, O eye. Salutation to your lips, which have been hidden for the sake of the song of the name of Jesus Christ, the scorner of the idol, for the humiliation of George the martyr. The wood of suffering and the affliction of your horse, which he mounted while he made the foot of the wicked enemy to tremble, and he did not turn back in the old way. Salutation to your mouth, which upon it has placed the razor of punishment, which has terrified George before you, standing in joy. From my desire, by your reading, you will help me. For the hearing of your mouth has terrified my mind. Salutation to your teeth, the cups of the poison which you have swallowed, the star of Lydda, George the martyr of the water, for the Berutawit woman, the daughter, from the mouth of the dragon. When you have redeemed my soul from the hand of the enemy, the sword, for your tongue has ever received the name.

Salutation to your tongue, which recited the truth of the name of Jesus Christ before the judges, with the confession of George the young man. To the path of torment my tongue has hastened for your praise, for I have taken up the lyre. In the likeness of your name, write my name completely. Salutation to your word before Dydyanos, which thundered, saying, "I am a Christian," openly, George of torment. The table which you have prepared for your brothers the martyrs, while they surround you in the arena, upon the dais, come, that you may bless the hand. Salutation to your breath, the breath of the physician of this one, who gathered the dead people, whom he revived with his breaths, George the righteous. For my companionship, at every hour, is there a foundation for the foundation that loves him in vain? Is it not that in everything he is pursued by him? Salutation to your throat, which, with the drink of poison that was mixed with evil, George the crucified, upon the cross, overshadow. Over me, your strong protection, as the cedars of the forest overshadow.

Salutation to your neck, which was like the pure milk and water of the mother, cut by the sword, George, for you endured the torment of judgment; the fruit of the vine said to me in the word of the Gospel, as they were together: I have built a shrine for you, a dwelling-place of judgment. Salutation to your shoulders, heavy with torments, a remedy with the addition of patience, for you bore seven honors, George, a martyr; for the enemy of the righteous, finally, I took your staff of comfort, and you raised the bow, as a swift one who makes the hunter who hunts in the wilderness increase. Salutation to your back, which was soaked with suffering at the times of a hundred lashes of torture, George, sweet as the taste of honey; and my mind, which was granted, and my tongue, which speaks, without ceasing, swiftly, my judgment and gift. Salutation, I say, to your chest, the ark of the lance of iron which did not harm you, George, seed and fruit of the harvest of righteousness; for by your wounds, your body, when the dead live, for the wound of my body, I have found a likeness with him, I will die.

Salutation to your bosom, the endurance of torment, which accepted the weight of suffering, George, for you, to the place of rest, it was inscribed. I have reached the mother of my prayer, from the error of sin, passing by, your salvation for the tenth, let it be for me a wing. Salutation to your hands, which were bound in fetters when they were placed upon you, the tenth of judgment and the command, George, guide me. The path of the heart and counsel, as if increasing the wealth of honor in deeds of peace and love, indeed, the abundance of silver which is not an inheritance, is strange. Salutation to your shoulders, like a bow of iron, which were strong for the prostrate serpent with a spear without bending, George, tell me. For the calling of my name on the day of the wedding, come, come, into the midst of the chamber of the bridal canopy, come, my beloved, stand at the entrance. Salutation to your knees, the knees of lions which were likened to the slayer of the dragon, the serpent, when they were transformed, George, mighty and beloved by all. May the strength of your knee be with me in the day of the slaying of the envious enemy who has ensnared me, let me be delivered.

Salutation, I say, to your mother, the land of Maʿadam, by the rope of the prison, which was hot, George, for you, because I have chosen to stand in my possession and my resurrection, like the perfect Isaac, in the likeness of the prophet who is to come; let him know me before. Salutation to your palms, which were spread out in the curves, hope of the wailing, always while they are pregnant, George; accept my prayer at every dawn, O martyr, lengthen my years to the time when he asks of him; if only, O swift one, I say to him. Salutation, I say, to the tips of your hands, which are raised, and to their nails, again upon their cities, which were smeared, George; be for the shield of the sword within it, O holy one; place your arm upon my head, anoint the oil of holiness, the fragrance of the wondrous, anoint. Salutation to your bosom, which was encircled by the belt of the girdle, and by the covering which was wounded; George, to you, because my heart was crucified, the bridegroom, the heavenly one; when he celebrates the feast, by the blow of your bosom, let me be a great one. Salutation to your belly, which was pierced by the truth, for the pillar of stone from the flint, O holy George; to God, the chosen one, the harp; your reading, the joyful one, within the ear of my heart, a pearl; by the blowing of the flame, the burning of my belly, let it be removed.

Salutation to your heart, which did not conceive bitterness in the measure of the offering, and did not beget sin as a cause for judgment, George, vigilant one of the dawn; the dawn for the dispersion, as you are vigilant on the day of the house while the property is being given, my soul, keep it, do not be troubled, O woe. Salutation to your kidneys, which were tested like a treasury in the furnace of wisdom of the father George, mighty helper; the envoy will save me, what is preserved by your wondrous salvation, as one who has brought the whole to the cave of the abyss. Salutation to your mind, which deliberated in the heart at his death, the resurrection of the bridegroom of the companion, the keeper of the mystery, George, the healer of disease for the daughter, as you have redeemed from the mouth of the dragon, the serpent; the remainder of my life, redeem from all affliction. Salutation to your entrails and to the vessels within you, the kidneys, when they surrounded you with chains like a measure of wine and oil, George, honored one, the glory of the martyrs, because of your members which were divided into ten divisions; may the portions not be separated from me, your help.

Salutation to your liver, the center of the heart, chosen, which resembles the tooth of the seal, George, the seal, which is upon the appointed place; it shall be revealed in my heart, the love which Adam ate, like the love of an infant, perfect, toward the father, and from. Salutation to your waist, whose jealousy is the sword of his jealousy, the girdle of the dragon which became on your spear at the time of his trembling, George, the righteous, like the month of Gǝḥaḥ which dries up; it shall be placed in my waist, the jealousy of your waist, this one, from the attack of the enemy; I shall beware and I shall be terrified, is it not so? Salutation to your arms, the travelers of the marrow of flesh, like pillars, straight, from the beams of the roof, George, the firm; with the abundance of favor and grace, it shall be spread over me for your salutation, a river, like the river of Egypt, full, which was not lacking, let us give. Salutation to your knees, the kneeling of those who were gracious to Apollo and to Athena, George, the chosen, the measure of the news of your knees; for my knees, let it be strength; if I am weaned from the breast, hide the infant.

Salutation to your legs, which are heated like a furnace in the great fire of the furnace, worker of wonders, George, in the place of the furnace, the pillar, like the fire of your strength for the one who comes, the race; help me openly, like a father to a son. Salutation to your shins, in the field of the name which you caused to be forgotten, Diocletian and his idols, they are defeated, George, be firm for the destruction of the enemy; by the flame of your name, in faith, when I call out in all, I am your helper for my soul, in the fire. Salutation to your knees, in the sharpness of the cuts which were engraved, until you went, hidden, when your tooth was sharp, George, your love dwelt upon me, to your knees, my knees, in the offering, and always from the tooth of the serpent which lies in wait, like it bites the foot. Salutation, I say, to your fingers, of the legs, and of the nails of them, George, be firm in the strong youth of the wall; I have taken refuge in your torture and your wondrous fasting, from the hidden prisons and the secret caves.

Salutation, salutation to your body, you stood, I say, the beauty of the cedar, the chosen one, who is not likened to you, I say to you, my tongue, in the furnace, George, for the one who is bound, the enemies of my life, all, I prepare, your horse, and I throw from the cloud. Salutation, I say, to all your forms, those which I have named and those I have not named, George, the pure one, the gold of Elation, cover me with the glory of the tooth, which the blessed ones bring, and make sweet my memory by your memory, and wine. Salutation to the departure of your soul, the pure blood of martyrdom, which was woven from the covering of the body, by the deed of tribulation, suffering, after it received, George, your name, when I call, by the revelation of water, your help, where I am, in the form of a man, approaching, to the throne of my heart, which always sends forth its branches. Salutation to the scatteredness of your body from the moisture of the skin, which was chosen, over the sick, a cure, for it showed healing, George, to you, my soul says, in the scatteredness of your body, I have trusted, and do not shame my hope, the prayer of my lips, hear and fulfill my request.

Salutation to the deposition of your body by the hands of your servants; after you were stripped of death, while in you is the hope of resurrection, George. Who bore the torture of years, the asceticism of your name in faith; when I set the vessel, the abundance of your help will overflow my throat. Salutation to your tomb, the counsel of her hands and her field; to the land of your birth, Lydda, George, who ever gives the gift of blessing at my will, so that you may sprinkle the dew of help upon Jericho in its festival; upon my skull you will sprinkle, descending from heaven. Salutation to the translation of your body into the Lyddan chest from the land of Persia, for the sake of the torture of the name after you completed, George. A pure, joyful heart, like your teaching, what is the translation of your body? To the translation of the Virgin it is added; the feast of resurrection, the day of Easter, you resemble. Accept my salutation, this praise and lamentation, like the odor of incense and the fragrance of myrrh, George; be for me by your covenant a guardian; you are my intercessor in the time of my distress; my word is given and my speech is stripped.

O God of the holy George, guard me and save me from the affliction of body and soul for me, for you have made the cross for the world of worlds. Amen.