PRAYER TO THE HOLY
Give me light, irrefutable
God,
Inexplicable architect of the cosmos,
Creator of predestination and knowledge,
Breath’s tempest, central power,
Mesrop, the Deacon of your holy Table,
In his great indistinct dream
Beseeches from your hands, clarity . . .
Help me, generous wisdom,
I, crookless shepherd of your great sermon
I, pitiful mortal, discolored steward
Of the frightful Armenian race . . .
I, unlearned scribe and illegitimate master,
I, unwaving flag of your faithful multitudes,
I, reciter without a gift, vine-grower without rain,
I, blind fountain and humpbacked traveler,
I, unworthy glorifier of your endless glory,
Pray for light for my uninscribable sign . . .
Help me, fragrant God . . .
I, piteous seeker and inconclusive investigator,
I, talentless explorer and infertile atom,
I, ascentless ascetic and flightless rhetorician,
Bitter-smiling vagabond and uninstructed student,
Wandering visionary and untalented dreamer,
I, confined window and closed door,
I, an iron wave breaking before my soul,
I, guardian of the grave and accountant of the dead,
I, needy harvester of your fiery bread . . .
I, night without portholes and thirst without a pitcher,
I, lone tiller lost in thistles,
I, darkness without rays, I, stringless lyre,
Pray for a key of elucidation
For the soul of the still speechless Armenians . . .
Help me, father of the Centuries,
I, dim eye and impenetrable sight,
Empty-headed auditor and ear that has heard evil,
Inharmonious musician and slack-voiced singer . . .
I, field of unworkable soil, vacant storeroom,
Waiting at the table without bread and drained ration of wine,
I, uninvited guest to the wedding of Christ,
I unanointed sacristan and thinker without books,
And compassionless caresser and lover devoid of love,
I, charmless sermonizer and Christian stoned to death,
A beggar bearing gifts and rich without gold . . .
I, unkissed lips and lamenter without a soul,
I, loveless heart and imperfect maidenhood,
I, unfixed ambulant and vacillating voyager,
From your beacon of salvation, give to me a drop of light,
And with your celestial doors
Let the doors of spiritual life open like Paradise . . .
Help me, infinite God . . .
I, unbubbling brooklet and obstructed cataract . . .
I, untaught teacher and uncertain master,
I, master of literature still without laureate,
I, lowerer of the curtain before the wretched . . .
I, a wall casting darkness, infernal prisoner,
I, lost splinter, ungiven seed . . .
A thicket-grown path, tortuous tunnel . . .
I, inhospitable inn and dying one denied a bed . . .
Don’t refuse me the light of your lantern . . .
Help me, whole Beginning,
I, basin of baptism without holy oil,
I, half-ruined hall of prayer,
I, farmer without a plough, reaper without a scythe,
I, unscented anointer and bitter-tasting oil,
I, doctor without balsam and bandage without muslin,
I, broken lamp and parched wick,
I, forest agitated by the wind and weeping willow . . .
I, unhewn timber and moldy beam,
I, soil-built censer and unsmoking incense,
I, vine without grape clusters and contaminated oat,
I, untrue forehead and uneven hand,
I, unable ecclesiastic and priest without host,
I, in my ashen solitude, a desert without caravans,
Grant me visitation . . .
Help me, O incomparable Law,
I, a hesitating man and hopeless person . . .
I, fearful individual and astonished animate one,
I, wind-chased waverer in doubt,
Inaudible uproar and unsounding trumpet,
I, a dried autumnal leaf descending,
I, brittle branch and scentless rosebush,
I, specter of sagacity,
I, short-sighted knowledge and degraded sense,
Lamenter under the vaults of your Church,
Face to face with your Christian people,
I, Reader of foreign tongues and illegitimate translator,
Of your great Book, the Bible, breath of God . . .
Help me, unending knowledge,
Powerful Lord, infinite inventor,
Zenith of light, unknotted wisdom,
Celestial water, uncleft soul,
Incalculable dispenser, cataract of dreams,
Let your luminous covering of knowledge,
Float down upon my desolate shoulder,
On this evening of the fortieth night
Of vigils, laments and prayers,
Timeless God, shoreless God,
Extend your creator hand to my brain,
To ferment there my discovery . . .
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