Image Fāsiladas

In the name of the Lord of Hosts, who is united in divinity while being triune in persons and in essence. I shall write the praise of your image, Fāsiladas, martyr. Help me to complete it with your aid, lest bodily weariness hinder me. Salutation to the memory of your name in the number of five letters, which was inscribed in writing on the tablet of the holy cross. Fāsiladas, martyr, as your name is sweet, write my name upon the garment of the new Christ, which the Father and the Spirit have spread wide. Salutation to the hair of your head, which resembles the hair of the wilderness. The copper of your head protects what is above it in the plain. Fāsoʾeādas, the crowned one, as your name says, a crown of joy. For the coming good year, you are its diadem and you are its crown. Salutation to your head, like the head of the cherubim who are crowned. Lofty is their memory and extraordinary the greatness of their glory. Fāsiladas, your head, for the sake of Christ’s love, when they saved you from beneath the sword, the free judge was cut down. The angels marveled at your great steadfastness.

Salutation to your face, the image of the face of God, Kenya, for you are depicted within it in the likeness of form and appearance. Fāsiladas, martyr, king of martyrs of Antioch. The earth rejoiced, being drenched in the blood of your martyrdom, and the sea and the lands were hidden in multitude. Salutation to your eyebrows, which guard the guarded, like a hidden thing concealing the secret of your eye, O Fāsiladas. There is no measure for the miracle, for you completed and fought wondrously. The Lord gave you a covenant. Salutation to your eyes, which looked upon the one who transgresses, the pride of the ruler, the high one who loves iniquity. Fāsiladas, Paul, abundant in torments from the decree of the rod, that you might fulfill in your body the passion of Christ, the seal. The punishment of the bridle, the wound, reached you with the wood. Salutation to your ears, one and the other, the prayer of the needy, united, who fast. Fāsiladas, continually into your ear within the hearing, when indeed my prayer and my petition are bitter. Like the evening sacrifice, the fragrant offering, the seraphim will anoint.

Salutation to your cheeks, a second path of anointing, which in emaciation and leanness increased the measure. I have journeyed to you because of this, Fāsiladas, the blessedness. In my cheeks, as if I had found shame. I have undertaken your praise until I complete this. Salutation to your nose, which was immersed within it. The fragrance of the love of Christ, which infused the souls of the righteous. Fāsiladas, who became elevated above authorities, a chosen one. Grant me your blessing, which suffices me, a portion, while from me nothing is sought as a price. Salutation to your lips, without clamor and murmuring, which continually praise the name of the Lord. When I was there, Fāsiladas, the name of the father. To your lips I trusted in the leanness. And for what was lacking from it, I believed in his blood. Salutation to your mouth, filled with high and low, which in its structure stood the leanness of pain and torment. Fāsiladas, your mouth, as if it were not a speaker. Christ, the Son of God, said the word that he spoke. The governor of the city appointed a guardian within it.

Salutation to your teeth, from the beauty of the gazelles which are beautiful, and from the beauty of the elephant's tusk which was given to Solomon as a crown for his head. Fāsiladas, a fragment of the swiftness of the Holy Spirit, his horse. When I saw your cheeks, at the time of the field of hearing, you revive them. Those horses of the left hand, all of them, you trample. Salutation to your tongue, the righteousness of God which it proclaimed, and all his praise it uttered. Fāsiladas, you received the suffering of the struggle, so that you might inherit, having heard the hope of the message of Peter afterward: a new heaven and a new earth. Salutation to your word, like the word of God, wondrous, which makes the monastery and the field of Qādes groan, the tree. Fāsiladas, your word is like a loud thunderclap. When it was heard throughout all the regions of Rome and Egypt, the gods of stone and wood were shattered. Salutation to your breath, from the cavity of the flesh within, which continually blows the wind of blessing and the shawl. Fāsiladas, sweeten the bitter taste of my deeds from my bitterness. I will confess to you, my Lord, a hundred psalms, Philistia. On the path of my enemy, place a covering of thorns, a sting.

Salutation to your neck, which was opened like a tomb, for the serpent of the fearful poison. Fāsiladas, you were a little one among five cities. O Lord, son of a Lord, honored, how then were you made low like a base servant? Salutation to your neck, which poured forth milk and blood by his will, for Paul, like his neck. Fāsiladas, a tree of olive and a cluster of the vine of the vineyard. The root of your neck, when it was cut from the sword of one judge, angels carried your soul on wings of light. Salutation to your shoulders, which are like a fortress for those who took refuge there, a storehouse of heavy pains and a fortress of torments upon the shield. Come to me, Fāsiladas, each year, with the martyrs of Antioch who were born within it, and with the deacon Victor and his mother Martha. Salutation to your chest, which received the blows of the whip and many scourgings which have no end. Fāsiladas, Basilides, chief of the counselors of the king of Rome. Cover my chest with the shield of time and age, as the summit of mountains covers the mist.

Salutation to your neck, which was like a tower, that became a dwelling-place for the spirit of wisdom and a seat for understanding. Fāsiladas, I have chosen you, for I have found you to be a refuge. Until when, O Lord, shall I place sorrow in my heart? Come to my lamentation, for I am weary. Salutation to your bosom, which became a shelter from the multitude of pain, in its embrace and its protection. Fāsiladas, you are a wave of sorrow, a new one. And in your bosom, you have left me behind, where you have gone to the heights. Like a servant, I will follow you with my heart as a ransom. Salutation I say to your hands, the gifts, and the chains of sickness and disease, which are ten in number. Fāsiladas, you are a flower that withers the mouth. As if I were a stranger, I heard of your righteousness, a command. When I asked you, you gave me life. Salutation to your wounds, the divine kings, the sinners, who struck the ground like a garment of iron and cold. The swift horse is a refuge, Fāsiladas the strong. When you go out to the desert of the finger, like a lion that roars, while there is none who can drive it away, the wicked one rages.

Salutation to your neck, which is not loosened, its measure; only the sword of faith is placed upon its nape. Fāsiladas, the container for the cross of Christ’s death; the judgment of fire will not frighten you, for you trusted in him. As you are compared, I have made you known in his new life. Salutation to your shoulders, in their breadth and thickness, which are a house of pain, like a chief of the thickets, a wise one. Fāsiladas, a seraph and a spiritual cherub; you are adorned like a shoot and a wondrous horse. You are wondrous among men, swift among the fathers. Salutation to your arms, which are spread out and which wipe away the bread of the sustenance of Adam and Eve for the belly of the hungry. Fāsiladas, he trades for the good that she desires. Christ Jacob is your father, for he blessed you, indeed. The blessing of yours, grant it quickly to my soul. Salutation to your fingers, which, like the psalm of Simeon, make melody like a flower that ascends to the arm of your hand from the root of the stalk. Only with you, Fāsiladas, is the whisper of the friend. Since I desired, let them show me in the order of love, a stranger. Martha, the narrow one, and Fiqṭor, the son.

Salutation to the bones of your hands, after their striking, as the resurrection of the dead will awaken those who are buried again. Fāsiladas, I have heard your name proclaimed; who is like you, who has girded the sword at his mouth? He who drew the sword in the morning and finished the battle by evening. Salutation to your chest, the vessel of pain and judgment, which the crucified judge of falsehood and all deceit has filled. Fāsiladas, you reign with Christ the only one; in the kingdom of heaven, where there is no saying of "Tekel" and "Mane," you abandoned the kingdom of the earth and became a monk. Salutation to your belly, even to the intestines within, which reveal what has burned and consumed the ripeness of fire. Fāsiladas, brother of Abba Dādir and Erāʿi, raise your strength and be gracious, Fāsiladas the swimmer, that you may save us from the evil enemy. Salutation to your heart, which the potter has moistened with his righteousness, the first taking and the last envious. Fāsiladas, I have reached you on the horse of the swift spirit, that you may save my soul from the lips of all the wicked and from the tongue that devours more than the sharp sword.

Salutation to your kidneys, in the furnace of temptation and affliction, which are like refined gold purified by fire. Fāsiladas, pure in your purity, you have bent the bow of the arrow; my soul is cleansed as the amethyst is purified, and by the blood of your martyrdom you have adorned the sacrifice, making it whole. Salutation to your conscience, which ascends to the heights, having found good grace for the world of worlds that endures. Fāsiladas, martyr, king of all martyrs; their sufferings, like yours, were hung on Christ, and their flesh was slain in spirit. Salutation to your entrails, which were poured out like water, with the piercing of the lance and the sawing of wood. Fāsiladas, noble, equal to every poor one; for the one who gave you bread in the face of the high heaven, you will find him in the time of the whirlwind. Salutation to the interior of your belly, a burning coal of crystal, for it was sealed within the ark of your belly like a shield. Fāsiladas, you who have no equal, I have taken refuge in your covenant at the hour of lamentation and woe; may your intercession be my ransom.

Salutation to your kidneys, pure as the center of a furnace, whose work of life is wondrous, the work of the hand of the God of Kenya. By the gift of the denarius and the mina, Fāsiladas, blessed, with those who girded themselves from dawn until the time of evening and night, you have made me, the pure and the wise, to be a messenger. Salutation to your loins, which have girded strength and firmness. From the ends of the whole earth, as one who seeks a garment, Fāsiladas, I follow you to where you went, the field of the bride. Straighten my path, which is within, and my journey, which is without, so that, like a measure of a field, it may go on a straight path. I say salutation to your members, in the place of struggle and renown, which have bound a covenant. Fāsiladas, give me that which I may take up the face. In the month of your fruitfulness, a good shoot has sprouted from the earth; my righteousness has also descended from heaven. Salutation to your knees, which have bowed always, for the gods who do not speak, their mouth is a bellows. Fāsiladas, apostle, as it is written in the book, while you raise the shield and while you brandish the sword, destroy the eye of my enemy and drive away the thousands.

Salutation to your feet, which were adorned on the step, within the house of the furnace of wood and the house of the balean, noble. Fāsiladas, mighty, surpassed the mighty, the renowned. Are you not Moses, the judge of the first law, who slew Sihon and Og? Salutation to your ankles, as David the prophet said: "Who has hidden from me the sin of the enemy, the destroyer?" Fāsiladas, guard the ankle of my foot for the seeker. Do not let me stumble by the curse of my father, a man. The ankle of the horse of Dan, which bit the deceiver. Salutation to your shins, a flame of fire that was kindled, which are broad from those upon Edom and Sidon. Fāsiladas, in righteousness, for the world you will rule. In the world of the flesh, a furnace, as one who does not see decay. Within that which cannot be measured, may your spirit guide me on the path. Salutation to your fingers, which were fixed on the path when you passed for the sake of hearing within the arena of passion and the affliction of disease. Fāsiladas, a donkey that does not shake off the load. Deliver me from the sea of judgment, which brings destruction. When with the people according to their own measure, Nineveh is scattered.

Salutation to your feet, on the step, in the spiritual river. Fāsiladas, martyr, you who were judged many times. Now, the crown of your praise has reached the meadow. Together with your salvation, grant me joy and gladness. Salutation to your stature, like a tree of the qelt and the cedar, which the River Jordan watered and moistened. Fāsiladas stands, Fāsiladas says: you who were planted within his house, and his kingdom was shaken. Christ, Solomon, and the mighty king. Salutation to your form, which was established there in righteousness: the form of Adam, fleshly, and the nature of the spirit, subtle. Fāsiladas, the suffering which you completed in purity. Strengthen me by your prophecy from all evil, as a rope strengthens a ship. Salutation to the departure of your soul from the house of its pure body, by the sharp knife and the edge of the penetrating sword. Chief of martyrs, the bridegroom, Fāsiladas, the joyful. For your soul, at the time of its departure, with the sound of woe and lamentation, the people of the city wept, saying, "Alas!

Salutation to the wound of your flesh, the Christian wound, the anphora, which was sanctified by the blood of the Lamb of mystery, the prsfora. Fāsiladas, martyr, father of Eusabiyos and Maqāra. Remove from me the forgetfulness and the confusion of the mind. All anger and all sorrow. Salutation to the burial of your flesh, which the righteous of the Most High wrapped in a pure garment of gurzen and in the blood of the ascal. Fāsiladas, Judah, the son of a mighty lion. Ascend from your sorrows and your broad grief. The enmity of my life kills me in the wilderness and the field. Salutation to your tomb, where the ancient fathers reposed. For the sea of your flesh is a precious stone, for it is their refuge. I will write the praise of your image, Fāsiladas, even for the one who is negligent. Tell your brothers, upon the garment of Christ they wrote, so that the thousands of angels may read it in order. I have offered these salutations to your image by his command, from head to foot, while I enumerated each one. Fāsiladas, honored one, martyr and son of God. Accept this hymn of mine as the sweet scent of myrrh and as a sacrifice offered at his festival.

Salutation to you, swift horse, who does not tire of the wind, for the battle against the enemy with the holy cross, mighty man Fāsiladas. Salutation to you, your crown is splendid as far as a distant road, adorned with Roman chains of gold, your teaching in the garment of righteousness. Salutation to you, for the wound of the flesh, the vision of Fāsiladas, the likeness, after your death you found delight, by covenant with an oath. Salutation to you, at the time of war and killing, mighty Fāsiladas, when you gallop, your horse says "whinny," for you are of glorious deed. Salutation to you, according to your custom you arose, Fāsiladas, in the morning, your deed is a song until we see, for the enemy you raise up and for the striker, by your strength the enemy's strength is humbled.