On Maria Scleraina

Funereal verses of Psellus for the Sebaste

Now a worldly storm, now a common tempest, now an unceasing wave of misfortune has risen; now, O heaven, groan greatly from on high, and, O earth, cry out below, oh, what a terrible suffering! Now instead of light send blood, O light-bringer; now, both moon and chorus of the stars, instead of rays send forth streams of tears; and air and surging sea, clothe yourselves in mist and deep gloom. For the Sebaste, both in birth and in life, the brilliant dignity of the palace, the chosen step, the first foundation, the ornament of morals, the splendor of manners, the living statue, the gravity of mind, the delightful flower, the place of luxury, the seemly dwelling-place of the Graces, she who alone possessed and bore all the beauty among mortals, and showed it to her master, and delighted and brightened him like a tree blooming from intellectual valleys, alas, alas, before its time was plucked up from the roots. Oh what a tree you have cut down, O Charon; whose root, while enlivened from below, its fruit sweetened the very heart, whose leaf was such as not to wither with time, it blossomed not only in spring and summer, but flowered in every season with its fruitful nature. Oh what a light-gleaming star has been hidden, oh what a lamp illuminating the earth has been extinguished; for she alone, between earth and heaven, was a shining star, a flower full of delight, brilliant in body, all-radiant in heart, glistening with virtues more than a pearl, shining with beauties more than gold, making the female flesh masculine in her ways, bearing propriety even to her appearance. Oh you who conquered all by your nature and moved all to lamentation, oh you who enchanted all with beauty and nature and now have filled all with bitter gloom, oh you who illuminated the earth with splendors and now have dimmed all creation, oh you who concealed with your fair forms all the beauties of the earth and the bright things of the heavens, and now are hidden by a body-destroying stone; oh all things are full of utmost grimness and teeming with tears and strange grief, not having the brilliant light of your appearance, not bearing the enchanting voice of your lyre. Who will give me a blood-stained stream, who a never-emptied abyss of tears, so that I might bewail the common tempest, and show the inflammation of the heart's passion with blood-stained tears? Oh you who lived in vain in this life, oh you who in vain obtained brilliant dignity and grasped the highest glory of fortune, oh you who appeared in vain, brilliant to see, and dazzled all with strange beauties, hidden by a grim and unexpected stone. But the master, burning with desire for you and remembering your greatest virtues, and having your concord in his heart and your supreme spiritual intelligence, and bearing in his mind the bitter punishment, which you unhappily endured in a foreign land, and your consolation, your delight, how you were a servant to him in your ways, how also a sea of gifts, a provider of luxury and a minister of nourishment, remembering all these good things, he hastened to repay an equal favor, he hastened to surpass you in the multitude of graces, having obtained so great a hand and power, and he honors you with all things beautiful and precious, with much wealth, with all-beautiful splendor; he covers you with pearls, even more with precious stones, he raises you to the height of the supreme fortune, he makes you the common protector of his life; then, devising greater ranks again, he increases and transfers you to greater glory, crowning you with the honor of brilliant dignity, and her who was sebaste by birth and manner he honors as sebaste by fortune and by life. You were his eye, a sweetening light, life, breath, all things, glory and power, when seen, when speaking and when moving. For in you there was beauty, character and grace, and an ensouled sweetness blossomed in your nature; and every

In Mariam Sclerenam

Στίχοι τοῦ Ψελλοῦ εἰς τὴν σεβαστὴν ἐπιτύμβιοι

Νῦν κοσμικὴ θύελλα, νῦν κοινὴ ζάλη, νῦν συμφορᾶς ἄπαυστος ἠγέρθη κλύδων· νῦν, οὐρανέ, στέναξον ἐξ ὕψους μέγα καί, γῆ, κάτω βόησον, ὢ δεινοῦ πάθους. νῦν ἀντὶ φωτὸς αἷμα πέμψον, φωσφόρε· νῦν, καὶ σελήνη καὶ χορὸς τῶν ἀστέρων, ἀντ' ἀκτίνων πέμποιτε κρουνοὺς δακρύων· ἀὴρ δὲ καὶ θάλασσα κυματουμένη, ἀχλὺν ἐπενδύθητε καὶ βαθὺν ζόφον. ἡ γὰρ σεβαστὴ καὶ γένει καὶ τῷ βίῳ, τὸ λαμπρὸν ἀξίωμα τῶν ἀνακτόρων, ἡ βαθμὶς ἡ πρόκριτος, ἡ πρώτη βάσις, ἠθῶν ὁ κόσμος, τῶν τρόπων ἡ λαμπρότης, τὸ ζῶν ἄγαλμα, τῶν φρενῶν ἡ σεμνότης, τὸ τερπνὸν ἄνθος, τῆς τρυφῆς τὸ χωρίον, ἡ τῶν Χαρίτων εὐπρεπὴς κατοικία, ἡ πᾶν τὸ κάλλος τῶν ἐν ἀνθρώποις μόνη ἔχουσα καὶ φέρουσα καὶ τῷ δεσπότῃ δείξασα καὶ τέρψασα λαμπρύνασά τε ὡς δένδρον ἀνθοῦν ἐκ νοητῶν κοιλάδων, φεῦ φεῦ, πρὸ ὥρας ἐτρυγήθη ῥιζόθεν. Ὢ δένδρον οἷον ἐξέκοψας, ὦ Χάρων· οὗ ῥίζα μὲν κάτωθεν ἐψυχωμένη, ὁ καρπὸς ἐγλύκαζεν αὐτὴν καρδίαν, τὸ φύλλον οἷον μὴ μαραίνεσθαι χρόνῳ, οὐκ εἰς ἔαρ δ' ἔθαλλε καὶ θέρος μόνον, εἰς πάντα δ' ἤνθει καιρὸν εὐκάρπῳ φύσει. ὢ ποῖος ἀστὴρ φωτολαμπὴς ἐκρύβη, ὢ ποῖος ἔσβη γῆς ἀπαυγάζων λύχνος· μόνη γὰρ αὐτὴ γῆς τε καὶ πόλου μέσον ἄστρον φαεινόν, ἄνθος ἡδονῆς γέμον, τὸ σῶμα λαμπρά, παμφαὴς τὴν καρδίαν, ταῖς ἀρεταῖς στίλβουσα μαργάρου πλέον, ταῖς καλλοναῖς λάμπουσα μᾶλλον χρυσίου, τὸ θῆλυ σαρκὸς ἀρρενοῦσα τοῖς τρόποις, τὸ κόσμιον φέρουσα μέχρι καὶ θέας. ὢ πάντα νικήσασα τῇ σαυτῆς φύσει καὶ πάντα κινήσασα πρὸς θρηνῳδίαν, ὢ πάντα μὲν θέλξασα κάλλει καὶ φύσει καὶ πάντα πληρώσασα νῦν πικροῦ ζόφου, ὢ γῆν καταυγάσασα ταῖς ἀγλαΐαις καὶ νῦν ἀμαυρώσασα τὴν πᾶσαν κτίσιν, ὢ πάντα συγκρύψασα ταῖς εὐμορφίαις τῆς γῆς τὰ κάλλη καὶ τὰ φαιδρὰ τοῦ πόλου καὶ νῦν κρυβεῖσα σωματοφθόρῳ λίθῳ· ὢ πάντα πλήρη στυγνότητος ἐσχάτης καὶ δακρύων γέμοντα καὶ πένθους ξένου, τὸ λαμπρὸν οὐκ ἔχοντα σῆς θέας φάος, τὸ θέλγον οὐ φέροντα σῆς λύρας στόμα. Τίς μοι παρέξει κρουνὸν ᾑματωμένον, τίς δακρύων ἄβυσσον οὐ κενουμένην, ὅπως ἀποκλαύσαιμι τὴν κοινὴν ζάλην, τὴν φλεγμονὴν δὲ τοῦ πάθους τῆς καρδίας τοῖς δάκρυσι δείξαιμι τοῖς ᾑμαγμένοις; ὢ καὶ μάτην ζήσασα τούτῳ τῷ βίῳ, ὢ καὶ μάτην τυχοῦσα λαμπρᾶς ἀξίας καὶ δόξαν ἄκραν συλλαβοῦσα τῆς τύχης, ὢ καὶ μάτην φανεῖσα λαμπρὰ τὴν θέαν καὶ πάντας ἀστράψασα καλλοναῖς ξέναις, στυγνῷ κρυβεῖσα καὶ παρ' ἐλπίδα λίθῳ. Ὁ δεσπότης δὲ σῷ πόθῳ κεκαυμένος καὶ σῶν μεγίστων ἀρετῶν μεμνημένος ἔχων τε τὴν σύμπνοιαν ἐν τῇ καρδίᾳ καὶ τὴν ἄκραν σου ψυχικὴν εὐφυΐαν φέρων τε τῷ νῷ τὴν πικρὰν τιμωρίαν, ἣν ἐν ξένῃ γῇ δυστυχῶς ἐκαρτέρεις, καὶ σὸν παρηγόρημα, σὴν θυμηδίαν, ὅπως μὲν αὐτῷ λάτρις ἦσθα τοῖς τρόποις, ὅπως δὲ καὶ θάλασσα τῶν δωρημάτων, τρυφῆς χορηγὸς καὶ τροφῆς ὑπηρέτις, τούτων ἁπάντων τῶν καλῶν μεμνημένος, ἔσπευδεν ἰσόμετρον ἐκτῖσαι χάριν, ἔσπευδε νικῆσαί σε πλήθει χαρίτων, χειρὸς τοσαύτης εὐπορήσας καὶ κράτους, καὶ πᾶσι τιμᾷ τοῖς καλοῖς καὶ τιμίοις, πλούτῳ σε πολλῷ, λαμπρότητι παγκάλῃ· τοῖς μαργάροις κρύπτει σε, τοῖς λίθοις πλέον, αἴρει πρὸς ὕψος τῆς ὑπερτάτης τύχης, κοινὴν τίθησι τοῦ βίου σε προστάτιν· ἔπειτα μείζους ἐννοῶν βαθμοὺς πάλιν πρὸς μεῖζον αὔξει καὶ μεταίρει σε κλέος, τιμῇ καταστέψας σε λαμπρᾶς ἀξίας καὶ τὴν σεβαστὴν ἐκ γένους καὶ τοῦ τρόπου τιμᾷ σεβαστὴν ἐκ τύχης καὶ τοῦ βίου. ὀφθαλμὸς αὐτῷ, φῶς ὑπῆρχες ἡδύνον, ζωή, πνοή, τὰ πάντα, δόξα καὶ κράτος, ὁρωμένη, λαλοῦσα καὶ κινουμένη. παρῆν γὰρ ἐν σοὶ κάλλος, ἦθος καὶ χάρις, καὶ γλυκύτης ἔμψυχος ἤνθει σῇ φύσει· καὶ πᾶς