Saturday 4 April 2020

Gregory of Nazianzus on Basil: the box set

Following on from my last blog post, I've now translated all eleven surviving epigrams by Gregory on the death of his close friend and colleague, Basil, the bishop of Caesarea Mazaca (modern Kayseri) in what is now Turkey but was then Cappadocia. Basil was subsequently canonised as St Basil 'the Great'. Gregory 'the Theologian' followed him into sainthood, but not quickly enough for his own liking.

Gregory was a crucial figure in the formation of Christian doctrine and helped shape the Byzantine church: you can read about his achievements on Wikipedia. His poetic epitaphs for family and friends don't get a lot of love, but I think they're rather wonderful. He felt deeply, and his life was shaken by repeated and devastating personal losses.

Two of these translations appear in my forthcoming World's Classics translation, but the rest are new for the blog. He signs off the sequence as a 'dozen epigrams', so one has probably dropped out along the way.

Further epigrams from Gregory of Nazianzus

8.2
On the great Basil, Bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia

I sooner thought body could outlive soul
Than I could live without you, Basil, friend,
Christ’s workman. Yet I bore it, and remained.
So must we wait? Will you not take me up,
And place me in the chorus of the Blessed,
Where you are stationed? Do not leave me here;
Do not, I beg: I swear upon your tomb,
Never will I forget you and move on;
I could not, if I wanted. Gregory.

8.3
On the same Basil the Great

When godly-minded Basil sped away,
Snatched by the Trinity and glad to go,
The whole of Heaven’s host rejoiced he came;
But all of Cappadocia’s city sighed.
And not alone; the world cried out in pain:
Gone is our messenger, and with him gone
The one who bound us in majestic peace.

8.4
On the Same

Now all the world is rocking to and fro,
The portion due to balanced Trinity, 
As rival words fight for the upper hand.
It is disgraceful. And I cry in pain —
For Basil’s lips are sealed and speak no more.
Only awake, and all the storm will cease
To hear your sermon, know your ministry.
For you alone were seen to be your match:
Living, you matched the legend told of you;
And your own legend rose to meet your life.

8.5
On the Same
There is one God, who rules us from on high;
And our age knew but one exalted priest:
You, Basil, angel shouting forth the truth,
A blazing eye for Christians everywhere,
Resplendent in the beauties of your soul,
Pontus’ and Cappadocia’s greatest pride.
Now as before, I pray, stand firm for us
And offer up your talents for the world.

8.6
On the Same
Basil’s son, Basil, their exalted priest,
The citizens of Caesarea laid
Within this tomb; and I was Gregory’s friend.
I loved him from the bottom of my heart.
I pray that God may grant him every boon,
But most of all to change his life for this,
That we enjoy. What good to tarry long
On earth, and pine away, missing your friend
Who has become a citizen of Heaven?

8.7
On the Same
You only breathed on earth a little time,
But you laid all your gifts before the Christ:
Body and soul, words and accomplishments;
Basil, Christ’s glory and the priests’ defence,
And to this day a bastion filled with truth
Against the blossoming of heresy.

8.8
On the Same

You conversations, and you home we shared
In friendship, and you Athens that we loved;
You mutual bond we swore at long remove
To lead a godly life: know Basil now
Is up in Heaven, as his heart desired;
Gregory is on earth, his lips in chains.

8.9
On the Same

Great hymn of Caesarea, shining friend:
Basil, your voice was thunder, and your life
A flash of lighting. Yet despite all this
You left your holy seat: for Christ desired
Your company in Heaven urgently.

8.10
On the Same

You knew the furthest reaches of the soul,
And all such wisdom as this earth can claim;
You were a holy temple come to life.

8.10b
On the Same

Eight years you grasped the reins and steered the folk
Whose care is God; and, Basil, of your deeds
This was the only one that counted small.

11
On the same

Fond greeting, Basil, though you went away.
This little epitaph is Gregory’s;
Mine was the talk you liked to listen to.
My Basil, please accept from your friend’s hand
The gift I prayed never to have to give.
My godly Basil, to your mortal dust
I dedicate these dozen epigrams.




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