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Hymns and Homilies
St Ephrem the Syrian, tr. Burgess, 1853
14. Hymn 14: On the Funeral of a Prince or Rich Man
I asked impartial Justice,
“To whom does this tomb belong?
And who was he who lies in it?
For there is here nothing to distinguish him from others.”
Then an answer was returned to me
By Justice, respecting my enquiry:—
“Here a king is buried, who was renowned;
Draw nigh and contemplate his humiliation.
And near him a poor beggar is interred,
And behold, one cannot be known from the other.”
And as I departed by the door
I first saw the beggar;
Who lay there low upon the ground,
And on his head was great sadness.
For upon it the spider had spun her web,
And his body lay in the dust;
His teeth were loosened from the gums,
And his mouth was filled with ashes.
His bones had put off their fleshly clothing,
And were become dust and clay.
Now when I saw the beggar,
In this great humiliation;
I thought with myself, that a king of nations
Could not be so low as he.
I reflected, that as when living here,
A king is greater than a beggar,
So even in the sepulchre,
His corpse would be treated with honour.
But instead of his great exaltation,
Misery is now his guest;
And in the place of his high throne,
His body is prostrate in the dust.
Instead of his sweet perfumes,
His head hath become corruption;
Instead of all his magnificence,
He is turned to clay in the tomb.
Then I groaned in myself and said,
Alas! how is haughtiness humbled!
And what a low estate is prepared
To bring down pride!
For whether he be a king or a beggar,
Each reposes in the tomb and is no better than the other.
Let not man confide in his wealth,
For riches here forsake him;
Let him not trust in his possessions,
For they cannot descend with him to the grave.
Let not man confide in his comeliness,
For his beauty shall fade away in the tomb.
I considered the devouring grave,
Which is full, yet not satisfied;
And, however many dead go down to it,
Its bosom becomes yet wider.
Untold thousands lie there,
The rich and the poor together;
For I saw great multitudes,
Lying together without confusion.
They are all silent,
Without a sound or a movement;
No one can raise himself up,
To go forth to his neighbour.
The mighty ones have no power
To possess anything in the grave;
The proud and the arrogant are not able,
To exalt themselves about their fellows.
Those who delighted in pleasures,
Cannot there live luxuriously;
Nor those who loved Mammon,
Occupy themselves with usurious gains.
The king is buried and his gold with him;
They are both alike useless;
The rich man is buried with his treasures,
And he is unable to employ them.
The unjust man is buried with his evil deed,
And Gehennah keeps watch over him;
The righteous is buried with his affliction,
And Paradise expects him.
The poor is buried with his alms,
And the kingdom awaits him.
I desired to examine the remains,
Of the wealthy and of the poor,
To see whether the bones of the rich,
Are more beautiful than those of poor men.
But as the comeliness of the fair hath ceased,
So hath haughtiness and arrogancy;
Those are naked who were clothed in white raiment,
And are turned to blackness.
Those lie there who improved their complexions,
And artfully disguised their faces;
Those lie there who painted their eyelids,
And the worm corrodes their eyes.
Those lie there who wrought uncleanness,
And have become abominable clay;
Those lie there who loved arrogancy,
And are as though they existed not.
Those lie there who loved pride,
And are become a loathsome spectacle;
Those lie there who loved to have dominion,
And they are prostrate on their faces.
The cultivators of letters lie there,
But their wit has failed them;
There lie the lovers of despicable riches,
And are without daily bread.
There lie those who were enemies,
And their bones are mingled together!