Nisibis 5

Upon the sound of the voice of your cross, humbly I make heard, through your grace, the goodness of salvation, which was the announcer of the way of passage, which set for our contemplation the good things of the cross. The upright one: praises to your victory, glory to your lordship. Make clear, through small and slight advantages, to those who traded profit through their labors, by the gift of advantage they inherited loss. It is evident that it was wrath that boiled and arose in the land; profit and advantage he was distributing in anger. There is one who laid it waste through peace, and one who enriched it through peace, so that he might learn that he who can, drives in every manner, having seen that the persecutors of the powers fled before my eyes. They spread out before my children and bound my beloved ones. Behold, they taught me to fear him and not the fire, so that when there is none to appease his wrath for you, he commanded through peace, and every fire stretched itself out, and it was he who magnified it. And also the Babylonian, who magnified himself over all kings, when he trusted and supposed that there was none who could overcome him, his deed, which he himself through his own hands, he magnified. His radiance and his care, through peace, were made equal together, and he cast down his shoulders in contempt, and went out a fool into the desert. He himself pursued forward, and his own deeds pursued him. Show to all kings that he who was equal and brought down, that it was not through his own power that he was able to conquer, the power that magnified him, that same power drove him. I erred and arose, my Lord, the glories of my saviors; I was able, through the grace that delights in the righteous.

Upon the sound of the voice of your cross, humbly I make heard, through your grace, the goodness of salvation, which was the announcer of the way of passage, which set for our contemplation the good things of the cross. He listened in the bitterness of the threshing-sledges among the vintagers. The day of the storm, and he ascended upon the watchmen of the force. Satiety and refreshment, treasures and vineyards. They sent, they left, and they fled; she crowned her pursuers. Crown me, my beloved ones, and support me, my saviours. In the iniquity of my inhabitants, protect me, my helpers. Give me to drink from my vines the cup of the vintage. For the ear and the vine-stock, guard, my Lord, by your grace. Teach the farmer the vine-stock of the vineyard. Gladden the ploughman the ear of the farmer. One joins to another, that is the ear and the cluster. In the field, for the reapers, wine is able to gladden. In the vineyard, for the ploughmen, bread strengthens again. It is able to do both, because my troubles are twofold. The third is able, because it is more than twofold. That which came forth from silence through grace. But when it adorns itself with grace. If it goes to be watered in the midst of its vineyards. It wrongs the grace of that one who has compassion upon it. He is able to desire and to destroy something in exchange for something. He destroyed the vineyards and left the vineyards. He destroyed the plantings in exchange for the selves. He feared that it would be watered, blood would stir up wrath. And he would leave the vineyards and strike the vines. That he might learn in peace the end of the beginning. He might learn that upon what it is fitting to be watered. He learned that it is watered not upon the pursuer. But upon your will, that I sinned and was punished. Let him abandon the watering and heal the bitterness. For if the vine dies, its vineyard also is in vain. And as long as it lives, it awaits its destructions.

The multitude of signs in mercy for the inhabitants, the remnant and the surplus, he sought in wrath, and he erred in the remainder, the mourning of destruction. He gathered and increased, my Lord, the fruits that augmented wrath. Blood was to me as to the sick who went out in death, I led astray with guides the pain of many. With the utterance of my word, my Lord, I remembered that also the month, that the orchard sickened and fell in illness, came to health that it might be for a sign. For they went out in death who led away your brothers, bodies without voice weeping before them. The cut down, the cast down, great are the oaks, their lovers. The sound of fingers, behold, the earth seeks, roots for the planters, weeping and causing weeping. Beauty spread and shaded, and a single hour folded it up. The axe drew near and cut, and cut down the planter. A cutting for the oaks and pain for the planter. Every axe that struck, they tasted its pain.