Nisibis 6

At his voice's call, he hastens in his first steps toward the physician of Magog, that he might heal my first and second wounds, and that he might strengthen the third and heal the fourth. The supplication: Heal my son, my firstborn, by the hands of my Lord; they drank and were sated with the good that mingled wrath, and they were sated with my desires, and they sent away, they cast off my wishes, with a calm without care, my brothers and my crowns. He revealed to me, and I was scattered, that I was bent a little from that first and second dispersion, that I was bent for the third; behold, my fourth dispersion, that they struck, they took my brothers, my wishes, and my paradises, in a sack of shame. My altar, look, my Lord, and my bent ones, its sack, bring it to me, my Lord, the spread of salvation. Behold, not by the hand of a rock, my pursuit, my great one, that behold, in his shame before him and from his side his disgrace, for he is his spouse, a husband more common than he; behold, his wife, his daughter, and his partner, his sister, and the mother who bore him; in the second he turned, he took her. The heavens marveled that how much he angered, and behold, he succeeds. And if, my Lord, my wrongs are many, thus my sins have increased, that the mother of bendings might complete the bending, do not add, the mother of faults, the mother of floatings. Their bell, that it not come and renew its head upon me, and its foot rest upon me, and it rejoice that its good voice sounds. Thus it disturbed the world, and again it rose a little. See, my Lord, by my sons, my dispersion, even my weeping dispersion, my spreading before my children, which aches them from my pain, and the curses without mercy have not ceased upon me.

He went astray and arose, my earth's fruits and vegetables. Blessings within the vineyard, satiated in the fields. And when he came in haste, he came from my peace, cleaving wrath. The farmers were wounded, the gardeners were healed. They sowed, they planted, they destroyed along with his sin, his palm. He went, also she went, that from his bread he snatched from him. Wounded is my lord the farmer, who lent her to the earth. She took the ransom and gave it to the foreigner. The farmer's sowing, she repaid to the gardener. He went with yours, he came, and to you, my lord, the sold one came. The apostle who prostrates to you said to me, "You are a deceiver." That the wall of the rocks, a deceiver is he of their men. The seas were disturbed, Shamshakuth, who went with his great wife. When she was an old woman, and upon him she was divided. Guard your church, which later has no people with you. Every time she does not go astray in her selling, she is foolish. A deceiver is he who can make known the debt in the middle. You were called a deceiver to show me your debt. Thus this woman is weak and wanton. A deceiver is he who places her under fear always. Like you among deceivers, to make known in your foolishness. Every man became a lord over something not his own. Every man went out to shake something not in order. The day of confusion, you thirsted for me in my sins. How much pain endured the farmers and laborers. Before the laborer, his workers cut off and went astray. To the farmer's eyes, his seeds they reaped and carried. They knew, they sowed, and they poured, and they labored, they worked, they grew.

They rose from the soil, and wept, and ascended empty from all. The people against the farmers, she entered the vine-dressers. Not my Lord, the heads did not arrange the orders within wrath. They wished to arrange, but they did not leave iniquity. When the fruit of wrath was good for plundering, the wrath of wrath. To where from all, I choose the chosen, that which was chosen. In my plantings, that which was condemned, in my plantings, that which was destroyed. The good of the voice of the cry, my swiftness, and it spreads from me. Do not deliver me, lest I think that a letter was given to me of mourning, and I loosened my guard. Not my Lord, my vineyard, abandoned and diminished. I have nothing that is remembered before your eyes. That in all my brokenness, a father is remembered for me, my God. This alone, that I have not placed with you a sign. Why did you not weep for me with voice and lamentation? That before the cup, my days of bending and crowning. And after the cup, my days of revelation and spreading out. My bendings of the doves, they shine in the fields. Of wrath, which waters all, went to my precious ones. Your grace sends all, it bends to my beloved ones. My elders and my parents, behold they groan before you. Of the young with their voices, of the elders with their tears. With my maidens in their fasts, my bendings in their sacks. My eyes to all my streets, I took and behold they thirst. They spread from a hundred and ten, and a thousand from a myriad. Send my speech, my streets of a myriad of my inhabitants. Open to the outsiders and rejoice for the insiders. Great is your grace, that it extends within and without. It shakes my deliverers, the rocks of your grace.

The prayer of the righteous was prepared for the fugitives, that the unbelievers might be scattered and the believers strengthened. Among the believers he shamed those who did not believe. Two feasts drew near on one day as one: the feast of your Ascension and the feast of your martyrs, the feast of your crown and the memorial of the wreath of your servants. Lovers who had forgiven you feasts on one day, and the two feasts forgave you in their stead. Joy from a good voice and mourning from an injury. Proclaim to your fellow-feast-goers that your two feasts have ceased, and instead of the desires, remnants among the feast-goers. Outcries and injuries met me in every place. Comfort the distant, gladden the near, and let the good news of joys be proclaimed within your land, and let praise for the proclaimer be recompensed in every mouth.