Carmen de resurrectione mortuorum

POEM ON THE RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD TO FELIX (From Martène, *Veterum Scriptorum et Monumentorum amplissima Collectio*, vol. IX) [PRELIMINARY OBSERVATION. The poem *On the Resurrection of the Dead* bears the name of St. Cyprian in a very ancient codex from Corbie, written in capital letters over nine hundred years ago. Who this Cyprian might be, however, is not easy to guess. For the fact that we should attribute it to that most famous Carthaginian bishop and martyr, whose distinguished writings are most gently covered, seems to be hindered by the excessively rough diction and the frequently violated rules of meter; although the weighty and vigorous sentiments are by no means foreign to him, nor are they judged unworthy of such a great teacher. But neither does the author's age seem to differ from that of Cyprian of Carthage. For if he is not older than him, many things prove that he was at least a contemporary. Certainly, that he lived especially at a time when the worship of idols still flourished is suggested by these verses, in which he depicts the impious, agitated by the goads of conscience at the final judgment, detesting that same worship of idols: "There each one will confess his own savage life. First of all, whoever had previously thought wrongly of God, And had worshipped with wandering falsehood a numen of stone, And had consecrated blood-stained altars with fire, And had feared painted silent figures," etc.]

He flourished even in the most turbulent times of the nascent Church, when heralds of the sacred word were handed over to cruel death and the invincible witnesses sealed the faith of Christ they preached with the outpouring of blood. This is sufficiently demonstrated when he refutes the savagery of tyrants against Christians in these words: "Yet you denied this Lord to the earth and the tomb, and instead slew the just with cruel slaughter, and often put the heralds of God to flight; truth always clung to you as a crime." Add to this that he subtly insinuates the opinion of the Millenarians concerning the earthly kingdom of Christ after the resurrection, which scarcely survived the end of the third century. Nor does it lack antiquity that, drawing arguments from all sides, he attacked the insane philosophers of his age who denied the future resurrection of bodies with this poem—a thing not unlike the truth. There will perhaps be someone who makes Cyprian the author of this poem—Cyprian, the magician turned Christian, then bishop and martyr of Antioch in Phoenicia, whose acts, distinguished in three books by a contemporary writer, we first published in volume III of our *Anecdota*. But he would have written not in Latin, but in Greek.

Moreover, the value of this little work is proven by the principal doctrines of the Christian religion asserted in it: original sin, the necessity of baptism, the mystery of the Trinity, the resurrection of the dead—which seemed so important in this most ancient author that his somewhat barbarous style could not deter us from publishing it. This style, even when excerpted by an unskilled scribe, however ancient, has been so corrupted that it is often necessary to hesitate; yet we believe that learned men will not complain that we have wasted our labor. After I had written this, I noticed that the poem had been published as an appendix to the works of Tertullian. Having read it there and compared it with our manuscript, I found the editor to be audacious. Unable to bear the metrical violations and humble style violated by Cyprian—whoever he is—he attempted to render this little work in more elegant verses, and thus made public not Cyprian’s work but his own lucubration. Therefore, since learned men are accustomed to venerate even the errors in ancient writers, we considered it worthwhile to restore this same poem, as it came from its author, to its original integrity.

I who wished for rustic Muses in my song, and adorned the spring breezes with rosy flowers, ripened the heavy summer harvests of grain, cut down the gleaming grapes of autumn on the vines, and always praised the peaceful olives of winter, and poured forth measured waters from the springs, and sang of leafy forests from the wandering grass: now I shall modulate the ethereal breezes of light. Now let me be allowed to touch the light-bearing Muses, to reveal the secret nymphs of the river’s source, and the joyful forests placed under another star, and I shall recall the eternal Muses in song. Whence the vast sea swells with its waves, what power makes the solid earth tremble, and whence the golden light first shone upon a new world. Who could have made man grow in a happy age, and what desire for living exists among the varied people, what firstborn offspring of evil was destined to die, whence the good, the fragrance, and the modesty of rosy garlands. What makes the lowly vine swell with joyful grapes, and how the new barley grows golden on old stalks, and how the tree ripens its black olives under ice, what the decreases of greenness are from various seeds, and the soft mother protects the lime trees with her shade. It is good to know all things which are the beginnings of the branches, so that through all things one may recognize the true God, who prepared light, the seas, the sky, and the earth, and adorned the new world by varying the stars. And he first commanded cattle and birds to come forth, and gave the waters to be filled with fish, and drove the sands, made fertile, with animals.

I shall compose such songs with harmonious Muses, and set forth for you a health-giving stream from the fountains; and the joyful rain coming from the placid clouds, flowing deeply and freely into the souls of men, I shall receive into our fields with full channels. Now come, touch the secure and living water, and drink the swift, easy liquor of life. If anyone wishes to escape the eternal flames of punishment, and is ignorant of the coming day and unaware of the future age, and rather to obtain the just rewards of life, let him remember one God, and pray to Him alone, who placed the whole world on the balance beneath the threshold, and remaining eternal, always to be in the age, holding all ages, alone before all ages, unbegotten without beginning, God, and holding the divine throne, always towers high above the lofty sky. Almighty alone, to whom all things are subject, Father, Son, Spirit, who are always one. Who, pleased with Himself, formed man for eternity. A shepherd of flocks, a lord of wild beasts, and gave the right of birds, and the sea and land to be ruled. Who by speech alone was able to extend the sky, and by word commanded the solid earth to be suspended, and quicker than speech separated the water of the sea, loved this clay with his hands to form a shape, and wished his own beautiful form to be in it. He breathed a life-giving breath upon the faces.

III. Forgetful of God, he dared to commit such great things. Nor, after the warning, would he touch anything further, from which he would know evil and discern what is right. Straightway he desired to touch the forbidden fruit. How many gifts of the world God granted to man, and marked the very sweet pledge of His love, gave useful and dear commands of salvation, placed under his dominion the lands and the living soul, the winged kind, the flocks, every kind of wild beast, and the watery race, all swimming creatures. But since he first transgressed the law by crime, already the first man was changing the Lord’s commands, with his wife urging on all evils, he was perishing by death. For the woman first committed the evil of sin, betrayed and deceived her husband by law. Eve, persuaded to evil, opened the thresholds to death, and created funerals for herself and for the whole race. Hence unspeakable wickedness, death flowed forth into eternity. Thence the atrocious crime more easily spread widely, and the farmer’s labor stirred up savage madness. The cunning serpent cast this in with unjust zeal. Thence many evils were committed by peoples, and the seeds of wicked deeds gave birth to unspeakable acts.

IV. Therefore God alone, to whom belongs the highest power, and who holds the highest summits of heaven above, dwelling in inaccessible light through the ages, mindful of the past and prescient of the future, keeps a decree of merit for the offspring forever, and all the souls that govern sluggish bodies, and move man with reason wandering through the limbs. As soon as they yield to the initial weight of the limbs placed, and, freed from earthly bonds, they go light, and creep back to different parts of the world, each to its own. Some are immediately enclosed in hidden darkness, others are recalled forthwith to happy breezes, kept deeply for the decreed rewards of the law, until the bodies rise again in the limbs of death. Now men are to weigh the penalties of the first life, and mindful of the judge of God, to stand before former things; each to await his own punishment from his crime. The foundation, or the name, weight, and quality of cattle, or in vain to pour forth the breath of God ending. V. Or can Almighty God, under whose nod all things are ruled, not be able to restore life after death, or does the Lord of all things seem unable to do something? If he was able to bring forth bright light from darkness, and to compose all masses by his word, to prepare all things from nothing by his powerful voice, why can he not from something fashion again a form, which once was, which had lived before, and command a similar form to rise again?

Since all things are of God, the earth will restore all the more, commanded, whatever it once covered; if by chance the flame of the pyre has consumed one who slept, or the sea in its dark waves has cast down another; if, nevertheless, fishes have sated their bellies on someone, or wild beasts have torn apart the cruel feasts of limbs; if birds have lain upon the blood of a seized body, still the Lord will deny no one their funeral. It is necessary for the living to be brought forth from death for God, and for men to stand with their own forms restored. Thus dry seeds are entrusted to the turned earth, and the dead stalks rot deep in the furrows; from there the blade is revived and animated with restored ears, and again the strong grains grow golden and live, and new harvests rise with varied yield. All stars will fall, and when reborn will shine again; and the day dies in the dense night with its light; the night falls into day, light rests in things, and again the high one rises in its stars. The sun will set, and the splendid light of its brightness perishes in the shadow of the coming evening for the world, and it returns with renewed joys for the whole age. Thus the phoenix, burned on its own pyre, lives; and immediately the bird rises from its own tomb. The tree, stripped of leaves, bears fruit in its own time, and again bends with apples from the sprouting branches.

Therefore, when the world trembles at the divine voice, and the depths of the high air are shaken by powers: then an unusual crash and the greatest murmurs of the sky. As God advances, as the judge of the world comes, immediately countless ministers rush forth, and they fortify the Lord with His heavenly majesty, angelic hosts descend far and wide to the lands. All the messengers of God, to whom divine power is given, by prayers and the form of the virtue of every spirit. They have a fiery vigor, their bodies are radiant, divine power flashes; hence the whole earth roars, hence the trembling earth everywhere groans, bringing forth the men whom justice will command to be restored. The companions marvel, the clouds are finally disturbed, the stars marvel and fear the sudden power from on high. Here, with God commanding, easily with the voice of the mighty one, immediately, through all the realms of the tombs broken open, every soil pours forth bones from wide gaps, and the living sand belches forth peoples. Limbs cling to hair, bones are joined to marrow, and the connected nerves guide the breathing bodies, and the veins, infused with blood, are moved. The souls, sent down, are returned to the opened hollows, and each seeks its own rising organs. O wondrous faith! Hence every age springs forth. The ancient crowd of the dead springs forth from dust; mothers and men rise again to the recovered light, great-hearted youths, boys, brides and maidens, and the deceased old men stand with living spirits, and the world resounds with the wailing of infants. When various peoples come from the lowest abodes, both the bands of the East and those whom the farthest land sees.

Those who dwell in the middle zones beneath the sloping climate, and who hold the Riphaean citadels of the frosty constellation: each fearful inhabitant is present at the end, both rustic and soldier, the king with his diadem laid aside, the rich man mingled with the poor in an equal throng, trembling everywhere in the heights. Now the world groans with prayers, and the peoples marvel that their hands are ashamed to cry out. VII. The Lord Himself shines with a bright and eminent light, and, surpassing all, gleams in fiery virtues, and flashes from the lofty throne of the heavenly seat, surrounded by martyrs in a gleaming number of men, and stands forth with His blessed prophets accompanying Him, whose bright temples shine with snow-white fillets. And now priests appear in shining vestments, bearing the glittering crowns of life as rewards, and with all bowed and knees bent, they adore. The voice of all is one: "Only the holy and sacred God." Then the Lord will command the twofold people to stand, and orders the just to be separated in number from the wicked, and commands those clothed, with death conquered, to have vigor, to possess the ever-unquenchable breezes of light, to go through the ever-flourishing ancient realms, through rich groves, through always pleasant green places, to live an eternal life in a glorious body.

There is a place beloved of the Lord on happy shores, where the light is bright and a more healthful breeze breathes, and there is eternal day and unchangeable time, and a region secret to God, most rich in fields, and a blessed seat too much in a serene hinge, always joyful air, always about to be in light, and vital breezes breathe in the winds. The earth, rich in soil, bears everything equally. Flowery meadows blaze with balanced purple. All things, pre-shining, mix light without envy; one flower happily clothes its own covering with its own light. Here, roseate things are varied with snowy seed, rare, and with roseate things a snowy breeze is curled; they know not by which things the fields might grow more beautiful. Which one is more worthy of sight, or excels more in honor? Never are such things born in flower-bearing gardens, nor have such things bloomed in our fields, nor does the field, as soon as the rose opens, blush so known, nor is Tyrian purple so dyed with redness, nor does a gem shine, beautiful with colored stones; from there the prasinus gleams, there the carbuncle burns, the smaragdus pours forth glittering lights. Here also cinnamon grows on fragrant branches, and amomum blazes with a joyful green leaf. Here lies gold of radiating light, and other groves, flourishing, hold the sky with their tops. Green branches weigh down the most abundant shoots. India has put forth no groves like these; the pine does not so lift its green tops, nor does a branch bloom better in the springtime. Nor does the cypress so curl its shaken foliage.

Here fir-trees, black at the summit, flourish in closed groves, and the forests alone are ever green without hail; no leaves fall, and no season fails us; the tops, compact with redness, are green, the tree is purple. But for us that is not the rose; the blush is equal in it. Thus it breathes such a fragrance of beauty into its leaves. The tree stands, most beautiful, with new flowers and fruit, and vital fruitfulness thickens the happy strength. The rich branches blaze with green apples; milk also flows, drinkable, from full streams. Whatever the pious earth makes green breathes life, and whatever blooms from the seed is at once blessed, and the soil of the beautiful, healing chalk is fragrant. There a placid spring waters the grassy fields with its stream; four rivers from it water the divided land. I think spring is always active, the air clothed with flowers. No cold of the winter star varies the breezes, nor does the radiance of the pressed heats of summer flash; the sky tempers the breezes with its own serene light, and refreshes the better land with its breath. There is no night there; the stars pour forth their own darkness.

Anger and treachery are absent, and dread desire, and fears are shut out, and cares are driven from the threshold. Hence the evil one is banished as an exile to the farthest shores, and toil, and fear to touch the boundaries. There, ancient faith rests in its chosen seat, justice rejoices and lives in an eternal covenant, and secure health delights in peaceful fields, always about to live, always in future light. Here, whoever is a pious cultivator of the just and good, and whoever fears the Lord with a blameless mind, the Thunderer, and has honored his parents with sacred piety, and has always cultivated a holy life without crime. Or whoever has comforted the needy with friendly resources whenever they were in need, and has aided the laboring poor excessively, a helper of the poor, accustomed to free orphans, and has rescued the harmed, has aided those oppressed by crime, has given his own dear pledges of the table to guests, has carried out all his gifts by divine commands, has harmed no one, has coveted nothing belonging to another. All of them, exulting with divine praises, and praying, raise their voices to the stars, singing psalms to the Lord, they celebrate thanks through joys, and they will go on the blessed way with accompanying messengers.

After the Lord had accomplished these joyful gifts and sent the righteous equally into the alternate realms, a pitiable crowd came lamenting their own crimes. Here there is groaning; they mourn, all increasing their tears with lamentations, and they testify to their deeds with frequent howlings. Flaming darts, pressing on according to their merits, tremble. Angels seize them, and now, now forbid them to pray, and forbid them to pour forth the voices of late repentance. And now pardon for prayers is denied as the flame approaches. How often, wretched ones, did divine power become known to you? How often was the majesty of the known truth perceived? You heard the sounds, you saw the lightnings of the sky. You experienced constant rains, the wrath of wind and hail. How often did you experience calm days? The seasons enriched the gifts of God with offerings: spring abounded in roses, summer did not lack for fruits, autumn offered thousands of varied apples, winter always rules over joyful olives with its ice. God granted everything; no kindness was lacking, yet through such great things the whole human race did not know God. The earth trembled at God, the sea hung suspended by God’s nod, and the river, fearful, flowed back over dry sands, and all creation joyfully confesses God.

XI. Yet you deny this Lord of heaven and earth, and instead slay the righteous in cruel slaughter, and often attack the heralds of God. Truth has always clung to you as a crime. And so you will reap the fruit of your unjust sowing. Do you not know the day you are accustomed to mock? You will go into the deep darkness of fire and brimstone, burning and suffering savage torments in your agonies. The Lord commands these to depart for eternal punishment, to go into the fires of gehenna without end, to be pressed down through torrential pools of flame, to be turned into flames at the command of the threatening elements, and for all the fire of heaven to descend from the clouds. XII. Then greedy, swift fire encloses Tartarus, and stormy seas belch forth flames, and the whole living earth is confounded with ashes, and the fiery air shakes angry furrows, and the whole world is armed with every torch in a torrent. With Tartarean force, conflagrations rage in the world. Driven headlong, they are lifted into the heat; fleeing here and there, they are carried back with sharp speed. The fury of the savage flame meets them as they flee, and they already recognize their punishment for their crime. Now the land is possessed by no wandering farmer, and the sea is pressed to its deepest limit. Where the sun, having measured its course, ends its rays on Olympus, and the stars, having crossed over, rise from the finished world. The air swells with dense shadows, light hidden away, and the last pools blaze with hidden streams. The nature of the place is fiery with marked punishments, and the swamp of the underworld, climbing with heat to the depths, thunders; it is carried with horrific furnaces of punishment.

It seethes and is stirred by a swift whirlwind of flame, a river rushing into torment in a swirling abyss; all is parched and mixed with muddy sand. Hither the groaning crowd of the wicked will be sent, captive, and the host of the sinful body about to burn. There will be great lamentation, weeping, joined with wailing, and a swift grinding, a howling of the grieving from the flame far off, and another sound of fire and a groan of the burning rises into the breezes. XIII. The image of the moon hangs as a promised offspring, and prayers will begin to hang late to heaven, and they will wish to know God, whom they were unwilling to know. There each one will confess his savage life, and his guilty hands, and his cruel crimes, and will testify to the unspeakable deeds of his life. First of all, whoever had thought ill of God, and had worshipped wandering, false stone images, and had sated bloodied altars with fire, and had feared painted figures from a voice, and had adored the empty waves of a false name; and whatever evil error had immediately led astray, if anyone was an adulterer, whoever had killed his children; if anyone lived with a guilty mind in any evil, or was a violent plunderer, or a defrauder of a client; if anyone stained his hands with human blood, and mixed deadly poisons in secret. Then if anyone polluted his breast with an empty theft, or rejoiced in the unjust profit of another's evil; whoever committed any unspeakable evil whatsoever, another burning will torture him with bitter fire, and all will give punishment as living corpses, thus grieving to preserve the whole throng of men.

XIV. Why have the holy prophets so often sung these things, warned by the Spirit of God, and spoken of what was to come? No one (alas, wretched ones!) no one lent an ear. Thus almighty God willed that his rewards be known, and the threats set forth through so many such laws, while many, muttering, cried out the heavenly words. Finally, by God’s command, the prophet compacted the bones, and the tombs, moved suddenly and not of their own will, stood amazed that the bodies, scattered in ashes, had lain there; he marveled that the living then rose as the soul came, and with their own voice stretched their palms toward heaven, and rejoiced in God and in Christ the victor in such things. Those indeed sought the silent tomb, and yielded to the future day of the Lord to be preserved. He ordered them to be held back for a while in the lowest resting places, until that great day, when the time is completed, should come. All, know the true Lord, who alone makes the soul ascend to the light, and can drive the same soul into the torments of Tartarus, and to whom all power over life and death lies open. To be able is enough for God, not to will; and it is done by speaking. That Lord of mine alone is to be feared in the depths of the senses. And since every course is concluded by death, whoever exists today will carry his own life with him.

XV. Therefore, while life remains, while it is permitted to enjoy the light, while repentance is allowed, before the end of the age seizes the unwary and that final day of death, which is held by law, releases the unknowing eyes, watch over the salvation that first remains, and it will be easy and good to turn aside the course. After the atonements have been pressed by their own sacred rites, and after the too-wandering storms which you must veil, hold to the straight paths and the right winds. Hence, with minds made broad beforehand, repel crime, and let the long-corrected guilt be washed from the breast; then, soldiers, blot out the unspeakable evils committed, and appease the dreadful God with eternal prayers. Let all the worst mortal things yield to the good living. Preserve the new life now without crime, and keep pious minds in the true name. And as suppliants, ask pardon for your first offenses; now let pure hearts ripen for pious cultivators, and raise innocent hands in just prayers, and render easy voices in divine praises. And let minds begin to grow accustomed to true goods, and let the gifts of the divine law be more celebrated; and remember the good deeds, and at the same time undertake the actions; let the sordid deeds once committed by the wicked wither, and all better things will burn for you who are pious, and at the same time life will be freed from dreadful dangers, and eternal rewards will come to its own prayers. THE END.