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Click to printBar ‘Ebroyo. "On April – to the Praise of its Creator." Global Medieval Sourcebook.

Text based on the edition compiled by Mor Philoxenos Yuhanon Dolabani in 1929 and republished by the Mor Ephrem Monastery in Glane, Holland in 1983. .

ܥܠ ܢܝܣܢ ܫܘܒܚܐ ܠܡܟܝܢܢܗ | On April – to the Praise of its Creator

Source Information

ܥܠ ܢܝܣܢ ܫܘܒܚܐ ܠܡܟܝܢܢܗ | On April – to the Praise of its Creator

by Bar ‘Ebroyo

Text Source:

Bar ‘Ebroyo. Bar Hebraeus's Mush'hotho Book. Holland: Monastery of St. Ephrem the Syrian, 1983.

Responsibility Statement:
  • Text based on the edition compiled by Mor Philoxenos Yuhanon Dolabani in 1929 and republished by the Mor Ephrem Monastery in Glane, Holland in 1983.
  • Translation by Patrick Conlin
  • Encoded in TEI P5 XML by Danny Smith
Editorial Principles:

Transcriptions and translations are encoded in XML conforming to TEI (P5) guidelines. The original-language text is contained within <lem> tags and translations within <rdg> tags.

Texts are translated into modern American English with maximum fidelity to the original text, except where it would impair comprehension or good style. Archaisms are preserved where they do not conflict with the aesthetic of the original text. Scribal errors and creative translation choices are marked and discussed in the critical notes.

Publication Details:

Published by The Global Medieval Sourcebook.

The Global Medieval Sourcebook is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

ܗܳܐܡܛܳܐ ܢܺܝ݂ܣܳܢ ܘܰܠܥܰܝ݂ܝ̈ܩܐ ܒܝܰܐ ܢܰܦܶܫ܃ Behold, April has arrived and has given refreshment to those who grieve
ܘܰܒܗܰܒܳܒ̈ܐܶ ܠܛܘܪ݂ܳܐ ܘܕܰܒܪܳܐ ܫܘܒܚܳܐ ܐܰܠܒܶܫ܂ And in glory has clothed mountain and pasture with flowers
ܒܰܚܠܘܠ ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܠܦܰܩܚ̈ܐܶ ܐܡܺ̈ܝܢܐܶ ܩܪܳܐ ܐܳܦ ܟܰܢܶܫ܃ At the wedding feast of the rose, it invited, indeed, gathered blossoms as guests
ܘܰܕܡܶܢ ܓܢܘܢܳܐ ܢܶܦܘܩ ܚܰܬܢܳܐ ܐܘܪܚܳܐ ܕܳܪܶܫ܀ And prepared the way for the bridegroom to leave the bridal chamber.
5
ܕܡܽܘܬ݁ ܟܰܠ̈ܬܳܐ ܗܳܐ ܐܶܨܛܰܒܬܘ̄ ܦܰܩ̈ܚܼܝ ܕܰܒܪܳܐ܃ Blossoms of the field are adorned like beautiful brides
ܘܡܶܢ ܩܘ݂ܠܳܪ̈ܶܐ ܕܥܘ݂ܙܳܐ ܕܣܰܬܘܳܐ ܩܢܰܘ ܚܘܪ݂ܪܳܐ܂ And they have attained freedom from the iron bands of winter’s fierceness
ܗܳܐ ܐܶܫܬ݁ܪܝ ܠܗ ܠܶܫܳܢ ܛܺܝܛܟܘܣ ܘܒܰܐܡܺܝܢ ܙܳܡܪܳܐ܃ Behold, the tongue of the cicada has been loosened and it ever sings
ܘܥܰܠ ܒܶܡܰܛܰܐ ܕܢܰܪܩܝܣ ܘܳܐܣܳܐ ܠܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܡܢܰܨܳܪܐ܀ And, on the seat of the narcissus and the myrtle, twitters to the rose.
ܗܳܐ ܫܘܰܫܢ̈ܶܐ ܕܡܽܘܬ݁ ܟܰܠ̈ܳܬܳܐ ܡܶܢ ܩܰܝ݂ܛܘܢ݂̈ܐ܃ O! the lilies look like brides from their bed-chambers
10
ܡܨܰܒܬܝܢ ܢܳܦܩܝܢ ܐܳܦ ܡܶܬܓܰܐܶܝܢ ܒܫܘܦܪܳܐ ܕܓܰܘܢ̈ܶܐ܂ He is adorned and he goes out, indeed, he bears himself grandly in colorful beauty
ܗܳܐ ܫܳܢܝܬܳܐ ܗܘܳܬ݁ ܠܳܗ ܛܺܝܛܟܘܣ ܒܚܘܒ݂ ܫܘܫܰܢ̈ܐܶ܃ O! It is madness to the cicada – the love of the lilies
ܘܰܐܝܟ ܦܘܐ̣ܝ̣ܛܬܳܐ ܡܢܰܨܪܐ ܠܘܰܪܕܐ ܡܶܨܥܰܬ ܓܰܢ̈ܐܶ܀ His chirping is poetry to the rose in the midst of the garden.
ܙܰܒܢܳܐ ܙܥܘܪܳܐ ܟܕ ܐܝ݂ܬܘܗ̄ܝ ܗܘܳܐ ܘܳܪܕܳܐ ܚܰܕܬܳܐ܃ The time when the rose is new is brief
ܨܒܳܐ ܢܶܣܬܰܬ݁ܪ ܢܶܬܶܒ ܒܶܐܣܟܺܝܡ ܡܶܨܥܰܬ݁ ܓܰܢܬܳܐ܂ It prefers to be destroyed, and will appear to rest amidst the garden
15
ܗܳܝܕܝܟ ܚܙܺܝܬܶܗ ܟܰܕ ܡܶܬܦܰܪܣܶܐ ܒܶܝܬ ܚܳܢ̈ܘܳܬܳܐ܃ Then it sees the house of stalls when it is spread out
ܘܪܳܡܶܐ ܢܰܦܫܗ ܥܰܠ ܐܳܣܘ̈ܛܐܶ ܐܰܝܟ ܙܳܢܝ݂ܬܳܐ܀ And it lays itself down among the gluttons like a prostitute.
ܠܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܐܶܡܪܶܬ ܕܰܠܡܘܢ ܬܶܗܘܶܐ ܒܝ݂ܕܐ ܘܥܘܒܳܐ܃ I said to the rose, “Why will you be in the hand and on the bosom
ܕܟܽܠ ܐܳܣܘܛܳܐ ܐܳܦ ܪܳܘܰܝܳܐ ܫܪܝ݂ܚܐ ܠܰܥܒܳܐ܂ Of every prodigal, and indeed, wanton, greedy drunkard?”
ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܦܰܢܝ݂ ܕܓܽܘܥ ܠܟ ܘܰܫܠܶܝ݂ ܬܠܝ ܡܶܢܝ ܪܰܘܒܳܐ܃ “Pooh to you!” answered the rose, and it ceased and drew back from my uproar
20
ܕܚܰܝܰܝ̈̄ ܠܰܒܝܽܘܠ ܩܪܶܒܘ̄ ܘܶܐܬܡܰܛܝܘ̄ ܒܚܰܒܪܘܬ ܟܘܒ݂ܳܐ܀ They who are companions of thorns are reduced to dust and brought to Sheol.
ܠܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܐܶܡܪܶܬ ܠܡܽܘܢ ܬܶܨܕܰܠܰܠ ܒܰܕܡܽܘܬ ܦܰܚܙܳܐ܃ I said to the rose, “Why are you unrestrained in the appearance of licentiousness?
ܠܡܽܘܢ ܠܐ ܬܣܰܬܰܪ ܫܘܦܪܟ ܦܰܐܝܳܐ ܒܰܙܒܰܢ ܥܘܙ݂ܳܐ܂ Why not reject your comely beauty in the harsh time?”
ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܦܰܢܝ ܕܠܢܰܦܫܳܟ ܐܰܢܬ ܗܘܺܝ ܟܳܪܽܘܙܳܐ܃ The rose answered, “Be a preacher to yourself,
ܛܳܒ ܠܝ ܦܘܚܪܳܐ ܡܶܢ ܕܰܒܟܽܘܒ݂̈ܶܐ ܐܶܗܘܶܐ ܚܪܺܝܙܳܐ܀ The banquet of thorns is better to me than to become strung together.”
25
ܠܘܳܪܕܳܐ ܩܰܦܚܶܬ ܕܰܠܡܽܘܢ ܢܰܦܫܳܟ ܠܟܽܠ ܐܢܳܫܬܶܬܠ܃ I reprimanded the rose, “Why do you give yourself to any man?”
ܘܐܝܟ ܫܳܢܺܝܬܐ ܕܪܰܘܝܳܐ ܒܥܽܘܒܳܐ ܠܟ ܟܽܠ ܡܰܥܶܠ܂ And he who is like a mad drunkard in the bosom every time you are new?"
ܘܳܪܕܐ ܦܰܢܺܝ ܕܰܟܪܶܝܢ ܚܲܝܐܶ ܘܙܺܝܘܝ̄ ܗܳܐ ܐܳܙܶܠ܃ The rose answered, “My life is short and of little value,
ܠܡܽܘܢ ܐܬܦܰܠܰܛ ܕܰܠܦܰܐܝܘܬܗ ܫܘܦܪܳܐ ܚܳܡܶܠ܀ Why should its elegance and beauty flee when it is gathered?”
ܠܘܲܪܕܳܐ ܐܶܡܪܶܬ ܟܰܕ ܓܰܢܳܢܳܐ ܠܳܟ ܗ̱ܘ ܩܳܛܶܦ܃ To the rose, I said, “When your gardener gathers you
30
ܕܩܽܘܪܳܝܗ̄ܝ ܒܟܘܒܳܐ ܘܠܐ ܬܶܫܒܽܘܟܩܝܗܝ ܕܠܳܟ ܢܗܶܐܚܳܛܶܦ܂ And you gore him with a thorn, he will not forgive, and you will be snatched”
ܘܳܪܕܳܐ ܦܰܢܝ݂ ܕܡܶܢ ܓܰܘ ܬܰܪܥܺܝܬܝ̱ ܗܳܕܶܐ ܝܠܶܦ܃ And the rose answered, “I thought to myself, he would have learned this:
ܕܰܠܫܰܦܝܪܽܘܬܝ ܡܶܢ ܚܰܒܪܘܬܗ ܕܣܰܢܝܳܐ ܢܚܰܠܶܦ܀ His ugly companion will be renewed by my loveliness.”
ܠܘܪܕܐ ܐܶܡܪܶܬ ܟܕ ܓܰܢܳܢܳܐ ܨܒܳܐ ܕܟܳܟ ܢܶܦܣܳܘܩ܃ To the rose I said, “When the gardener wants to prune you
ܒܥܘܒܳܐ ܕܩܘܪܳܝܗܝ ܘܰܕܢܶܚܛܦܳܟ ܣܳܟ ܠܳܐ ܬܶܫܒܘܩ܂ Interiorly, and you poke him, you will be snatched and not forgiven
35
ܘܳܪܕܳܐ ܦܰܢܝ ܕܦܽܘܡܝ ܥܠ ܗܳܕܐ ܦܶܬܚܶܬ ܕܶܐܫܘܩ܃ And the rose answered, “Concerning my mouth, you open it and I will kiss
ܐܺܝܕ ܟܽܠ ܐܰܝܢܳܐ ܕܠܝ ܡܶܢ ܥܰܒܕܽܘ ܕܣܰܢܝܳܐ ܢܶܦܪܽܘܩ܀ The hand of all who will remove me from the thornbush.”
ܡܶܢ ܩܘܠܳܣܰܝ̈ܟ ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܚܳܐܶܒ ܦܽܘܡ ܟܽܠ ܪܺܝܛܽܘܪ܃ The rose succumbs to the praises of every rhetor
ܘܳܐܦܶܢ ܢܶܡܠܶܐ ܡܶܢ ܣܘ̈ܓܳܬܶܗ ܪܶܒܽܘ ܐܶܫܛܳܪ܂ Even those who will fill up with myriad senseless songs
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܰܩܚ̈ܶܐ ܐܰܝܟ ܦܰܠܳܚ̈ܶܐ ܘܗܘ݂ ܩܽܘܪܰܛܘܪ܃ All blossoms are like laborers and he a curator
40
ܐܳܦ ܫܽܘܫܰܢ̈ܶܐ ܦܳܠܚ̈ܶܐ ܘܗܘ݂ ܠܚܽܘܪ ܐܘܛܘܪܐܛܘܪ܀ Even lilies are laborers and he alone is the emperor.
ܡܶܢ ܩܽܘܠܳܣ̈ܰܝ ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܚܳܐܶܒ ܟܽܠ ܠܶܫܳܢܳܐ܃ Colossian roses are conquered by every tongue
ܕܡܶܢ ܫܘܫܰܢ̈ܶܐ ܚܰܒܪ̈ܶܐ ܗܕܝ݂ܪܐ ܩܢܶܐ ܦܽܘܪܳܫܢܳܐ܂ Because magnificent lilies are obtained as a gift by charmers
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܰܩܚ̈ܶܐ ܐܰܝܟ ܦܰܠܳܚ̈ܶܐ ܘܗ݂ܘ ܪܺܝܫܳܢܳܐ܃ All blossoms are like laborers and he is the ruler
ܟܽܠܗܽܘܢ ܙܳܗܪ̈ܐ ܓܶܕܫܳܢܳܝ̈ܐ ܘܗܘ݂ ܐܳܕܳܫܢܳܐ܀ Every brightness is accidental and his is essential.
45
ܐܳܘ ܦܳܪܘܫܳܐ ܕܰܠܡܳܐ ܬܶܚܙܐ ܠܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܫܲܒܪܳܐ܃ O! Is the rose not distinguished above Syrian rue?
ܘܠܫܘܰܫ̈ܢܶܐ ܣܳܒ̈ܶܐ ܗܕܺܝܪ̈ܶܐ ܩܰܢ̈ܝܰܝ ܫܽܘܦܪܳܐ܂ And are not the lilies’ old splendors hated by beautiful ones?
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܰܩܚ̈ܶܐ ܥܰܒ̈ܪܶܐ ܐܶܢܘܢ ܟܕ ܗܘ݂ ܚܺܐܪܳܐ܃ All blossoms are servants while he is noble
ܘܠܶܗ ܗܘ݂ ܣܳܓܕܝܢ ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܟܽܠ ܝܘܡ݂ ܐܰܝܟ ܕܰܠܡܳܪܳܐ܀ And to him they bow, every single day like to the Lord.
ܬܳܐ ܚܺܙܐ ܠܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܒܰܕܡܽܘܬ ܥܽܘܠܳܐ ܒܓܰܘ ܥܰܙܪܘܪ݂̈ܶܐ܃ Come, see in the rose the image of a baby inside swaddling clothes
50
ܘܰܠܫܘܫܰܢ̈ܶܐ ܐِܚܪ̈ܢܶܐ ܕܫܰܪܟܳܐ ܣܳܒ̈ܶܐ ܗܕܝܪ̈ܶܐ܂ And in the rest of the other lilies are old splendors
ܐܶܠܐ ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܥܰܒܕܘ݂ ܦܳܠܚܺܝܢ ܠܗ ܒܪ ܚܺܐܪ̈ܶܐ܃ But they are all made to serve, working for freeborn sons.
ܕܗܘܝ݂ܘ ܒܰܠܚܽܘܕ ܡܳܪܳܐ ܘܦܰܩܚ̈ܶܐ ܠܗ ܐܺܣܝܪ̈ܶܐ܀ That is to say, he alone is Lord and the blossoms are bound to him.
ܐܳܘ ܦܳܪܽܘܫܳܐ ܬܳܐ ܐܶܬܦܰܪܓܳܐ ܒܗܳܢܳܐ ܓܢܽܘܢܳܐ܃ O discerning one, come be bright in this bridal chamber
ܕܠܰܝܬ ܠܶܗ ܦܶܚܡܳܐ ܒܦܰܐܝܽܘܬܳ ܫܘܦܪܳܐ ܕܪܺܝܚܳܐ ܘܓܰܘܢܳܐ܂ Which has no equal in beauty and elegance of scent and color
55
ܒܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܐܶܨܕ ܕܰܡܥܶܠܶܝܬܳܐ ܥܛܺܝܦ ܟܘܬܝܢܳܐ܃ Consider the roses of the entrance which are clothed in a linen tunic
ܡܶܨܥܰܬ݁ ܦܰܩ̈ܚܶܐ ܘܠܐ ܬܶܬܦܰܠܰܓ ܕܗܽܘ݂ܝܽܘ ܚܰܬܢܳܐ܀ In the midst of blossoms undivided, that is to say, married.
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܰܩ̈ܚܶܐ ܐܰܝܟ ܩܳܦܺܝ̈ܠܶܐ ܘܘܰܪܕܐ ܒܽܘܟܢܳܐ܃ All of the blossoms are as if stripped bare, and the rose, a nobleman
ܐܳܦ ܫܽܘܫܰܢ̈ܐ ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܙܡܝܢ̈ܐ ܘܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܚܰܬܢܳܐ܂ The lilies are all like invited guests and the rose is married
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܙܰܗܪ̈ܶܐ ܐܝܟ ܢܰܗܝܪ̈ܶܐ ܘܘܰܪܳܕܐ ܥܰܝܢܳܐ܃ All flashes are like lights and the rose is the eye
60
ܘܝܰܬܝܪ ܡܶܢܗܘܢ ܗܘܠܚܽܘܪ ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܨܰܡܘܚܬܳܢܳܐ܀ And the only one that surpasses them in brilliance is the rose.
ܒܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܙܰܗܪ̈ܶܐ ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܒܰܠܚܽܘܕ ܐܝ݂ܬܘܗ̄ܝ ܢܺܝܫܳܐ܃ With every flash, the rose alone has a banner
ܘܐܦܶܢ ܢܶܗܘܐ ܡܶܢ ܪ̈ܰܘܳܝܶܐ ܒܦܽܘܚܪܳܐ ܕܝܳܫܐ܂ Although it will be from drunkards in an evil banquet
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܰܩ̈ܚܶܐ ܒܰܕܡܽܘܬ ܪ̈ܶܓܠܶܐ ܘܘܰܪܕܐ ܪܝ݂ܫܳܐ܃ The rose tramples on all blossoms in the image of a foot
ܘܕܺܝܠܗ ܫܘܦܪܳܐ ܕܺܝܠܳܢܝܐ ܘܕܺܝܠܗܘܢ ܛܝܫܳܐ܀ And its own beauty is unique and theirs are bastardized.
65
ܪܓܺܝܓ ܗܘܘܲܪܕܐ ܥܰܠ ܟܽܠ ܢܦܫܳܐ ܡܠܟܳܐ ܘܡܳܟܳܐ܃ The rose is desirable above every living king and lowly one
ܒܰܕ ܥܰܠ ܦܰܩ̈ܚܶܐ ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܳܠܚ̈ܶܐ ܗܘ݂ܝܘ ܡܰܠܟܳܐ܂ Because, concerning blossoms, they are all laborers compared to the king
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܙܰܗܪ̈ܶܐ ܠܗ ܒܰܠܚܘ ܕܰܘܗ̄ܝ ܣܳܝܡܶܝܢ ܒܘܪܟܳܐ܃ All of their flashes are made to kneel to it alone
ܘܪܰܢܩܪ ܒܘܢ ܠܗ ܕܳܫܢ̈ܶܐ ܕܫܘܒܚܳܐ ܢܳܣܒܺܝܢ ܡܶܠܟܳܐ܀ And they who draw near to it receive gifts of glory from the king.
ܗܳܐܡܛܳܐ ܢܺܝ݂ܣܳܢ ܘܰܠܥܰܝ݂ܝ̈ܩܐ ܒܝܰܐ ܢܰܦܶܫ܃ Behold, April has arrived and has given refreshment to those who grieve
ܘܰܒܗܰܒܳܒ̈ܐܶ ܠܛܘܪ݂ܳܐ ܘܕܰܒܪܳܐ ܫܘܒܚܳܐ ܐܰܠܒܶܫ܂ And in glory has clothed mountain and pasture with flowers
ܒܰܚܠܘܠ ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܠܦܰܩܚ̈ܐܶ ܐܡܺ̈ܝܢܐܶ ܩܪܳܐ ܐܳܦ ܟܰܢܶܫ܃ At the wedding feast of the rose, it invited, indeed, gathered blossoms as guests
ܘܰܕܡܶܢ ܓܢܘܢܳܐ ܢܶܦܘܩ ܚܰܬܢܳܐ ܐܘܪܚܳܐ ܕܳܪܶܫ܀ And prepared the way for the bridegroom to leave the bridal chamber.
5
ܕܡܽܘܬ݁ ܟܰܠ̈ܬܳܐ ܗܳܐ ܐܶܨܛܰܒܬܘ̄ ܦܰܩ̈ܚܼܝ ܕܰܒܪܳܐ܃ Blossoms of the field are adorned like beautiful brides
ܘܡܶܢ ܩܘ݂ܠܳܪ̈ܶܐ ܕܥܘ݂ܙܳܐ ܕܣܰܬܘܳܐ ܩܢܰܘ ܚܘܪ݂ܪܳܐ܂ And they have attained freedom from the iron bands of winter’s fierceness
ܗܳܐ ܐܶܫܬ݁ܪܝ ܠܗ ܠܶܫܳܢ ܛܺܝܛܟܘܣ ܘܒܰܐܡܺܝܢ ܙܳܡܪܳܐ܃ Behold, the tongue of the cicada has been loosened and it ever sings
ܘܥܰܠ ܒܶܡܰܛܰܐ ܕܢܰܪܩܝܣ ܘܳܐܣܳܐ ܠܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܡܢܰܨܳܪܐ܀ And, on the seat of the narcissus and the myrtle, twitters to the rose.
ܗܳܐ ܫܘܰܫܢ̈ܶܐ ܕܡܽܘܬ݁ ܟܰܠ̈ܳܬܳܐ ܡܶܢ ܩܰܝ݂ܛܘܢ݂̈ܐ܃ O! the lilies look like brides from their bed-chambers
10
ܡܨܰܒܬܝܢ ܢܳܦܩܝܢ ܐܳܦ ܡܶܬܓܰܐܶܝܢ ܒܫܘܦܪܳܐ ܕܓܰܘܢ̈ܶܐ܂ He is adorned and he goes out, indeed, he bears himself grandly in colorful beauty
ܗܳܐ ܫܳܢܝܬܳܐ ܗܘܳܬ݁ ܠܳܗ ܛܺܝܛܟܘܣ ܒܚܘܒ݂ ܫܘܫܰܢ̈ܐܶ܃ O! It is madness to the cicada – the love of the lilies
ܘܰܐܝܟ ܦܘܐ̣ܝ̣ܛܬܳܐ ܡܢܰܨܪܐ ܠܘܰܪܕܐ ܡܶܨܥܰܬ ܓܰܢ̈ܐܶ܀ His chirping is poetry to the rose in the midst of the garden.
ܙܰܒܢܳܐ ܙܥܘܪܳܐ ܟܕ ܐܝ݂ܬܘܗ̄ܝ ܗܘܳܐ ܘܳܪܕܳܐ ܚܰܕܬܳܐ܃ The time when the rose is new is brief
ܨܒܳܐ ܢܶܣܬܰܬ݁ܪ ܢܶܬܶܒ ܒܶܐܣܟܺܝܡ ܡܶܨܥܰܬ݁ ܓܰܢܬܳܐ܂ It prefers to be destroyed, and will appear to rest amidst the garden
15
ܗܳܝܕܝܟ ܚܙܺܝܬܶܗ ܟܰܕ ܡܶܬܦܰܪܣܶܐ ܒܶܝܬ ܚܳܢ̈ܘܳܬܳܐ܃ Then it sees the house of stalls when it is spread out
ܘܪܳܡܶܐ ܢܰܦܫܗ ܥܰܠ ܐܳܣܘ̈ܛܐܶ ܐܰܝܟ ܙܳܢܝ݂ܬܳܐ܀ And it lays itself down among the gluttons like a prostitute.
ܠܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܐܶܡܪܶܬ ܕܰܠܡܘܢ ܬܶܗܘܶܐ ܒܝ݂ܕܐ ܘܥܘܒܳܐ܃ I said to the rose, “Why will you be in the hand and on the bosom
ܕܟܽܠ ܐܳܣܘܛܳܐ ܐܳܦ ܪܳܘܰܝܳܐ ܫܪܝ݂ܚܐ ܠܰܥܒܳܐ܂ Of every prodigal, and indeed, wanton, greedy drunkard?”
ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܦܰܢܝ݂ ܕܓܽܘܥ ܠܟ ܘܰܫܠܶܝ݂ ܬܠܝ ܡܶܢܝ ܪܰܘܒܳܐ܃ “Pooh to you!” answered the rose, and it ceased and drew back from my uproar
20
ܕܚܰܝܰܝ̈̄ ܠܰܒܝܽܘܠ ܩܪܶܒܘ̄ ܘܶܐܬܡܰܛܝܘ̄ ܒܚܰܒܪܘܬ ܟܘܒ݂ܳܐ܀ They who are companions of thorns are reduced to dust and brought to Sheol.
ܠܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܐܶܡܪܶܬ ܠܡܽܘܢ ܬܶܨܕܰܠܰܠ ܒܰܕܡܽܘܬ ܦܰܚܙܳܐ܃ I said to the rose, “Why are you unrestrained in the appearance of licentiousness?
ܠܡܽܘܢ ܠܐ ܬܣܰܬܰܪ ܫܘܦܪܟ ܦܰܐܝܳܐ ܒܰܙܒܰܢ ܥܘܙ݂ܳܐ܂ Why not reject your comely beauty in the harsh time?”
ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܦܰܢܝ ܕܠܢܰܦܫܳܟ ܐܰܢܬ ܗܘܺܝ ܟܳܪܽܘܙܳܐ܃ The rose answered, “Be a preacher to yourself,
ܛܳܒ ܠܝ ܦܘܚܪܳܐ ܡܶܢ ܕܰܒܟܽܘܒ݂̈ܶܐ ܐܶܗܘܶܐ ܚܪܺܝܙܳܐ܀ The banquet of thorns is better to me than to become strung together.”
25
ܠܘܳܪܕܳܐ ܩܰܦܚܶܬ ܕܰܠܡܽܘܢ ܢܰܦܫܳܟ ܠܟܽܠ ܐܢܳܫܬܶܬܠ܃ I reprimanded the rose, “Why do you give yourself to any man?”
ܘܐܝܟ ܫܳܢܺܝܬܐ ܕܪܰܘܝܳܐ ܒܥܽܘܒܳܐ ܠܟ ܟܽܠ ܡܰܥܶܠ܂ And he who is like a mad drunkard in the bosom every time you are new?"
ܘܳܪܕܐ ܦܰܢܺܝ ܕܰܟܪܶܝܢ ܚܲܝܐܶ ܘܙܺܝܘܝ̄ ܗܳܐ ܐܳܙܶܠ܃ The rose answered, “My life is short and of little value,
ܠܡܽܘܢ ܐܬܦܰܠܰܛ ܕܰܠܦܰܐܝܘܬܗ ܫܘܦܪܳܐ ܚܳܡܶܠ܀ Why should its elegance and beauty flee when it is gathered?”
ܠܘܲܪܕܳܐ ܐܶܡܪܶܬ ܟܰܕ ܓܰܢܳܢܳܐ ܠܳܟ ܗ̱ܘ ܩܳܛܶܦ܃ To the rose, I said, “When your gardener gathers you
30
ܕܩܽܘܪܳܝܗ̄ܝ ܒܟܘܒܳܐ ܘܠܐ ܬܶܫܒܽܘܟܩܝܗܝ ܕܠܳܟ ܢܗܶܐܚܳܛܶܦ܂ And you gore him with a thorn, he will not forgive, and you will be snatched”
ܘܳܪܕܳܐ ܦܰܢܝ݂ ܕܡܶܢ ܓܰܘ ܬܰܪܥܺܝܬܝ̱ ܗܳܕܶܐ ܝܠܶܦ܃ And the rose answered, “I thought to myself, he would have learned this:
ܕܰܠܫܰܦܝܪܽܘܬܝ ܡܶܢ ܚܰܒܪܘܬܗ ܕܣܰܢܝܳܐ ܢܚܰܠܶܦ܀ His ugly companion will be renewed by my loveliness.”
ܠܘܪܕܐ ܐܶܡܪܶܬ ܟܕ ܓܰܢܳܢܳܐ ܨܒܳܐ ܕܟܳܟ ܢܶܦܣܳܘܩ܃ To the rose I said, “When the gardener wants to prune you
ܒܥܘܒܳܐ ܕܩܘܪܳܝܗܝ ܘܰܕܢܶܚܛܦܳܟ ܣܳܟ ܠܳܐ ܬܶܫܒܘܩ܂ Interiorly, and you poke him, you will be snatched and not forgiven
35
ܘܳܪܕܳܐ ܦܰܢܝ ܕܦܽܘܡܝ ܥܠ ܗܳܕܐ ܦܶܬܚܶܬ ܕܶܐܫܘܩ܃ And the rose answered, “Concerning my mouth, you open it and I will kiss
ܐܺܝܕ ܟܽܠ ܐܰܝܢܳܐ ܕܠܝ ܡܶܢ ܥܰܒܕܽܘ ܕܣܰܢܝܳܐ ܢܶܦܪܽܘܩ܀ The hand of all who will remove me from the thornbush.”
ܡܶܢ ܩܘܠܳܣܰܝ̈ܟ ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܚܳܐܶܒ ܦܽܘܡ ܟܽܠ ܪܺܝܛܽܘܪ܃ The rose succumbs to the praises of every rhetor
ܘܳܐܦܶܢ ܢܶܡܠܶܐ ܡܶܢ ܣܘ̈ܓܳܬܶܗ ܪܶܒܽܘ ܐܶܫܛܳܪ܂ Even those who will fill up with myriad senseless songs
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܰܩܚ̈ܶܐ ܐܰܝܟ ܦܰܠܳܚ̈ܶܐ ܘܗܘ݂ ܩܽܘܪܰܛܘܪ܃ All blossoms are like laborers and he a curator
40
ܐܳܦ ܫܽܘܫܰܢ̈ܶܐ ܦܳܠܚ̈ܶܐ ܘܗܘ݂ ܠܚܽܘܪ ܐܘܛܘܪܐܛܘܪ܀ Even lilies are laborers and he alone is the emperor.
ܡܶܢ ܩܽܘܠܳܣ̈ܰܝ ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܚܳܐܶܒ ܟܽܠ ܠܶܫܳܢܳܐ܃ Colossian roses are conquered by every tongue
ܕܡܶܢ ܫܘܫܰܢ̈ܶܐ ܚܰܒܪ̈ܶܐ ܗܕܝ݂ܪܐ ܩܢܶܐ ܦܽܘܪܳܫܢܳܐ܂ Because magnificent lilies are obtained as a gift by charmers
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܰܩܚ̈ܶܐ ܐܰܝܟ ܦܰܠܳܚ̈ܶܐ ܘܗ݂ܘ ܪܺܝܫܳܢܳܐ܃ All blossoms are like laborers and he is the ruler
ܟܽܠܗܽܘܢ ܙܳܗܪ̈ܐ ܓܶܕܫܳܢܳܝ̈ܐ ܘܗܘ݂ ܐܳܕܳܫܢܳܐ܀ Every brightness is accidental and his is essential.
45
ܐܳܘ ܦܳܪܘܫܳܐ ܕܰܠܡܳܐ ܬܶܚܙܐ ܠܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܫܲܒܪܳܐ܃ O! Is the rose not distinguished above Syrian rue?
ܘܠܫܘܰܫ̈ܢܶܐ ܣܳܒ̈ܶܐ ܗܕܺܝܪ̈ܶܐ ܩܰܢ̈ܝܰܝ ܫܽܘܦܪܳܐ܂ And are not the lilies’ old splendors hated by beautiful ones?
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܰܩܚ̈ܶܐ ܥܰܒ̈ܪܶܐ ܐܶܢܘܢ ܟܕ ܗܘ݂ ܚܺܐܪܳܐ܃ All blossoms are servants while he is noble
ܘܠܶܗ ܗܘ݂ ܣܳܓܕܝܢ ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܟܽܠ ܝܘܡ݂ ܐܰܝܟ ܕܰܠܡܳܪܳܐ܀ And to him they bow, every single day like to the Lord.
ܬܳܐ ܚܺܙܐ ܠܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܒܰܕܡܽܘܬ ܥܽܘܠܳܐ ܒܓܰܘ ܥܰܙܪܘܪ݂̈ܶܐ܃ Come, see in the rose the image of a baby inside swaddling clothes
50
ܘܰܠܫܘܫܰܢ̈ܶܐ ܐِܚܪ̈ܢܶܐ ܕܫܰܪܟܳܐ ܣܳܒ̈ܶܐ ܗܕܝܪ̈ܶܐ܂ And in the rest of the other lilies are old splendors
ܐܶܠܐ ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܥܰܒܕܘ݂ ܦܳܠܚܺܝܢ ܠܗ ܒܪ ܚܺܐܪ̈ܶܐ܃ But they are all made to serve, working for freeborn sons.
ܕܗܘܝ݂ܘ ܒܰܠܚܽܘܕ ܡܳܪܳܐ ܘܦܰܩܚ̈ܶܐ ܠܗ ܐܺܣܝܪ̈ܶܐ܀ That is to say, he alone is Lord and the blossoms are bound to him.
ܐܳܘ ܦܳܪܽܘܫܳܐ ܬܳܐ ܐܶܬܦܰܪܓܳܐ ܒܗܳܢܳܐ ܓܢܽܘܢܳܐ܃ O discerning one, come be bright in this bridal chamber
ܕܠܰܝܬ ܠܶܗ ܦܶܚܡܳܐ ܒܦܰܐܝܽܘܬܳ ܫܘܦܪܳܐ ܕܪܺܝܚܳܐ ܘܓܰܘܢܳܐ܂ Which has no equal in beauty and elegance of scent and color
55
ܒܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܐܶܨܕ ܕܰܡܥܶܠܶܝܬܳܐ ܥܛܺܝܦ ܟܘܬܝܢܳܐ܃ Consider the roses of the entrance which are clothed in a linen tunic
ܡܶܨܥܰܬ݁ ܦܰܩ̈ܚܶܐ ܘܠܐ ܬܶܬܦܰܠܰܓ ܕܗܽܘ݂ܝܽܘ ܚܰܬܢܳܐ܀ In the midst of blossoms undivided, that is to say, married.
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܰܩ̈ܚܶܐ ܐܰܝܟ ܩܳܦܺܝ̈ܠܶܐ ܘܘܰܪܕܐ ܒܽܘܟܢܳܐ܃ All of the blossoms are as if stripped bare, and the rose, a nobleman
ܐܳܦ ܫܽܘܫܰܢ̈ܐ ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܙܡܝܢ̈ܐ ܘܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܚܰܬܢܳܐ܂ The lilies are all like invited guests and the rose is married
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܙܰܗܪ̈ܶܐ ܐܝܟ ܢܰܗܝܪ̈ܶܐ ܘܘܰܪܳܕܐ ܥܰܝܢܳܐ܃ All flashes are like lights and the rose is the eye
60
ܘܝܰܬܝܪ ܡܶܢܗܘܢ ܗܘܠܚܽܘܪ ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܨܰܡܘܚܬܳܢܳܐ܀ And the only one that surpasses them in brilliance is the rose.
ܒܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܙܰܗܪ̈ܶܐ ܘܰܪܕܳܐ ܒܰܠܚܽܘܕ ܐܝ݂ܬܘܗ̄ܝ ܢܺܝܫܳܐ܃ With every flash, the rose alone has a banner
ܘܐܦܶܢ ܢܶܗܘܐ ܡܶܢ ܪ̈ܰܘܳܝܶܐ ܒܦܽܘܚܪܳܐ ܕܝܳܫܐ܂ Although it will be from drunkards in an evil banquet
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܰܩ̈ܚܶܐ ܒܰܕܡܽܘܬ ܪ̈ܶܓܠܶܐ ܘܘܰܪܕܐ ܪܝ݂ܫܳܐ܃ The rose tramples on all blossoms in the image of a foot
ܘܕܺܝܠܗ ܫܘܦܪܳܐ ܕܺܝܠܳܢܝܐ ܘܕܺܝܠܗܘܢ ܛܝܫܳܐ܀ And its own beauty is unique and theirs are bastardized.
65
ܪܓܺܝܓ ܗܘܘܲܪܕܐ ܥܰܠ ܟܽܠ ܢܦܫܳܐ ܡܠܟܳܐ ܘܡܳܟܳܐ܃ The rose is desirable above every living king and lowly one
ܒܰܕ ܥܰܠ ܦܰܩ̈ܚܶܐ ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܦܳܠܚ̈ܶܐ ܗܘ݂ܝܘ ܡܰܠܟܳܐ܂ Because, concerning blossoms, they are all laborers compared to the king
ܟܽܠܗܘܢ ܙܰܗܪ̈ܶܐ ܠܗ ܒܰܠܚܘ ܕܰܘܗ̄ܝ ܣܳܝܡܶܝܢ ܒܘܪܟܳܐ܃ All of their flashes are made to kneel to it alone
ܘܪܰܢܩܪ ܒܘܢ ܠܗ ܕܳܫܢ̈ܶܐ ܕܫܘܒܚܳܐ ܢܳܣܒܺܝܢ ܡܶܠܟܳܐ܀ And they who draw near to it receive gifts of glory from the king.
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