Sin which stripped me of my former God-woven clothing has also sewn on me coats of skin.

I am wrapped in a garment of shame as with fig leaves, in reproof of my selfish passions.

I am clad in a coat that is spotted and shamefully blood-stained by the flow of my passionate and pleasure-loving life.

I fell under the burden of passions and corruption of matter, and from then until now I am oppressed by the enemy.

Having preferred a possessive and pleasure-loving life to spiritual poverty, O Saviour, I am now harnessed with a heavy yoke.

I have adorned the idol of my flesh with the many-coloured clothing of shameful thoughts, and I am condemned.

I have been anxiously concerned only about outward adornment, and have neglected the inner temple made in the image of God.

I have buried with passions the beauty of the original image, O Saviour. But seek and find it, like the lost coin.

Like the harlot I cry to Thee: I have sinned, I alone have sinned against Thee. Accept my tears also, O Saviour, as perfume.

Like the publican I cry to Thee: Be merciful, O Saviour, be merciful to me; for no child of Adam has sinned as I against Thee. — Troparia from Ode 2, Tuesday of the First Week of Lent