Reference: Homiliae Selectae Mar-Jacobi Sarugensis, ed. Paul Bedjan, Vol. I (Paris and Leipzig: Harrassowitz, 1905), 1-2.
Joseph Zogby
Translator
| First mimro by the master Jacob of Sarug: Admonition | ܡܺܐܡܪܳܐ ܩܰܕܡܳܝܳܐ ܕܡܳܪܝ ܝܰܥܩܘܽܒ ܡܰܠܦܳܢܳܐ:ܕܡܰܪܬܝܳܢܘܽܬܳܐ |
| Give forth sound to my voice to glorify you, Son of God, that all my senses may praise you with their music. | ܐܰܙܺܝܥ ܩܳܠܰܝ̈ ܥܰܠ ܬܶܫܒܘܽܚܬܳܟ ܒܰܪ ܐܰܠܳܗܳܐ܃ ܘܰܢܗܰܠܠܘܽܢ ܠܳܟ ܟܽܠܗܘܽܢ ܪ̈ܶܓܫܰܝ ܒܰܙܡܳܪ̈ܰܝܗܘܽܢ܀ |
| My tongue was formed from the beginning to glorify you, but if it ceases to glorify you, it deserves punishment. | ܐܰܝܟ ܕܰܠܫܘܽܒܚܳܟ ܡܰܬܩܰܢ ܠܶܫܳܢܝ ܡܶܢ ܫܘܽܪܳܝܳܐ܃ ܘܶܐܢܗܘܽ ܕܒܳܛܶܠ ܡܶܢ ܬܶܫܒܘܽܚܬܳܟ ܠܢܶܓܕܳܐ ܫܳܘܶܐ܀ |
| May I not cease, Lord, from the toil of chanting your praises lest justice punish me with just judgment. | ܠܳܐ ܡܳܪܝ ܐܶܒܛܰܠ ܡܶܢ ܥܶܢܝܳܢܳܐ ܕܰܙܡܺܝܪ̈ܳܬܳܟ܃ ܕܠܳܐ ܐܶܬܢܰܓܰܕ ܡܶܢ ܟܺܐܢܘܽܬܳܐ ܒܕܺܝܢܳܐ ܟܺܐܢܳܐ܀ |
| The mouth of man is formed to glorify the Godhead, and the one who ceases to give glory is blameworthy and worthy of reprimand. | ܦܘܽܡܳܐ ܕܐ̱ܢܳܫܳܐ ܠܫܘܽܒܚܳܗ̇ ܡܰܬܩܰܢ ܕܐܰܠܳܗܘܽܬܳܐ܃ ܘܰܐܝܢܳܐ ܕܫܳܠܶܐ ܡܶܢ ܬܶܫܒܘܽܚܬܳܐ ܥܕܺܝܠ ܘܰܡܩܰܦܰܚ܀ |
| Creating the mouth, the Creator placed in it sound and word that it may be moved to give glory. | ܗܘܽ ܒܳܪܘܽܝܳܐ ܣܳܡ ܒܶܗ ܒܦܘܽܡܳܐ ܟܰܕ ܒܳܪܶܐ ܠܶܗ܃ ܩܳܠܳܐ ܘܡܶܠܬܳܐ ܕܢܶܗܘܶܐ ܡܶܬܬܙܺܝܥ ܠܰܡܫܰܒܳܚܘܽ܀ |
| Therefore, everyone, aware that there is a Creator, ought to give glory to the Lord who created him, as tribute. | ܘܗܳܟܰܢ ܚܰܝܳܒ ܟܽܠ ܡܰܢ ܕܰܐܪܓܶܫ ܕܺܐܝܬ ܒܳܪܘܽܝܳܐ܃ ܕܰܐܝܟ ܡܰܕܰܐܬܳܐ ܢܶܬܶܠ ܫܘܽܒܚܳܐ ܠܡܳܪܝܳܐ ܕܰܒܪܳܝܗ̱ܝ܀ |
| The mouth of man may not utter worthless matters and unpleasant words. | ܫܰܪ̈ܒܶܐ ܣܪ̈ܺܝܩܶܐ ܘܗܳܠܝܶܢ ܡ̈ܶܠܶܐ ܕܠܳܐ ܫܰܦܺܝܪ̈ܳܢ܃ ܠܳܐ ܫܰܠܺܝܛ ܠܶܗ ܠܦܘܽܡܳܐ ܕܐ̱ܢܳܫܳܐ ܢܫܰܡܶܫ ܐܶܢܘܽܢ܀ |
| When the Creator created the mouth, he thus formed it to glorify him [but] not for worthless use. | ܗܘܽ ܒܳܪܘܽܝܳܐ ܗܳܟܰܢ ܐܰܬܩܶܢ ܟܰܕ ܒܳܪܶܐ ܗ̱ܘܳܐ܃ ܦܘܽܡܳܐ ܠܫܘܽܒܚܶܗ ܠܰܘ ܠܰܚܫܰܚܬܳܐ ܕܰܣܪ̈ܝܺܩܳܬܳܐ܀ |
| “Call out with your throat, and lift up your voice like a trumpet [Is 58:1]“ says the Lord to the one who ceases to glorify him. | ܩܥܺܝ ܒܓܰܓܰܪܬܳܟ ܘܰܐܪܺܝܡ ܩܳܠܳܟ ܐܰܝܟ ܫܺܝܦܘܽܪܳܐ܃ ܐܳܡܰܪ ܡܳܪܝܳܐ ܠܰܐܝܢܳܐ ܕܫܳܠܶܐ ܡܶܢ ܬܶܫܒܘܽܚܬܶܗ܀ |
| I am your creation, Lord, permit me to marvel at your works. And since you created me, permit me to be moved to give glory. | ܒܪܺܝܬܳܟ ܐ̱ܢܳܐ ܡܳܪܝ ܗܰܒ ܠܺܝ ܐܶܬܗܰܪ ܒܰܥܒܺܝ̈ܕܳܬܳܟ܃ ܘܰܐܝܟ ܕܰܒܪܰܝܬܳܢܝ ܗܰܒ ܠܺܝ ܐܶܙܘܽܥ ܠܰܡܫܰܒܳܚܘܽ܀ |
| Permit the heart to serve you with thoughts of holiness, for you are revered on account of your creation. | ܗܰܒ ܠܶܗ ܠܠܶܒܳܐ ܕܰܒܚ̈ܘܽܫܳܒܶܐ ܕܩܰܕܺܝܫܘܽܬܳܐ܃ ܢܶܗܘܶܐ ܡܫܰܡܶܫ ܠܳܟ ܕܰܕܚܺܝܠ ܐܰܢ̱ܬ ܥܰܠ ܒܶܪ̈ܝܳܬܳܐ܀ |
| Cleanse my tongue from every worldly matters that it may be moved to give glory by meditating upon you. | ܩܰܕܶܫ ܠܶܫܳܢܝ ܡܶܢ ܟܽܠ ܫܰܪ̈ܒܺܝܢ ܥܳܠܡܳܢܳܝ̈ܶܐ܃ ܘܰܒܥܶܢܝܳܢܳܟ ܢܶܗܘܶܐ ܡܶܬܬܙܺܝܥ ܠܰܡܫܰܒܳܚܘܽ܀ |
| Here is my mouth open for you. Fill it, Lord, with glory as you promised [Ps 51:17], and idle speech that it would utter will not pass through it. | ܗܳܐ ܦܬܺܝܚ ܠܳܟ ܦܘܽܡܝ ܡܠܝܺܘܗܝ ܡܳܪܝ ܫܘܽܒܚܳܐ ܐܰܝܟ ܕܐܶܫܬܰܘܕܺܝܬ܃ ܘܠܳܐ ܢܶܥܒܰܪ ܒܶܗ ܡܰܡܠ̱ܠܳܐ ܣܪܺܝܩܳܐ ܕܢܶܫܬܰܡܰܫ ܒܶܗ܀ |
| May my sounds be moved by your wondrous gift, Son of God, while I affirm your glory. | ܢܙܘܽܥܘܽܢ ܩܳܠܰܝ̈ ܥܰܠ ܡܰܘܗܰܒܬܳܟ ܡܰܠܝܰܬ ܬܰܗܪܳܐ܃ ܒܰܪ ܐܰܠܳܗܳܐ ܟܰܕ ܡܰܘܕܶܐ ܐ̱ܢܳܐ ܥܰܠ ܬܶܫܒܘܽܚܬܳܟ܀ |
| End [of the mimro] | ܫܠܶܡ. |
