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

I have willfully incurred the guilt of Cain’s murder, since by invigorating my flesh I am the murderer of my soul’s awareness, and have warred against it by my evil deeds.

I have not resembled Abel’s righteousness, O Jesus. I have never offered Thee acceptable gifts, nor divine actions, nor a pure sacrifice, nor an unblemished life.

Like Cain, we too, O wretched soul, have likewise offered to the Creator of all foul deeds, defective sacrifice and a useless life. Therefore we too are condemned.

In molding my clay into life, O Potter, Thou didst put in me flesh and bones, breath and vitality. But, O my Creator, my Redeemer and Judge, accept me who repent.

I confess to Thee, O Saviour, the sins I have committed, and the wounds of my body and soul which murderous thoughts like robbers within have inflicted upon me.

I have sinned, O Saviour, yet I know that Thou art the Lover of men. Thou strikest compassionately and pitiest warmly. Thou seest me weeping and runnest towards me as the Father recalling the Prodigal. — Troparia from Ode 1, Tuesday of the First Week of Lent

The mind is wounded, the body is feeble, the spirit is sick, the word has lost its power, life is ebbing, the end is at the doors. What then will you do, wretched soul, when the Judge comes to try your case?

I have reviewed Moses’ account of the creation of the world, my soul, and then all canonical Scripture which tells you the story of the righteous and the unrighteous. But you, my soul, have copied the latter and not the former, and have sinned against God.

The Law has grown weak, the Gospel is unpractised, the whole of the Scripture is ignored by you; the Prophets and every word of the Just have lost their power. Your wounds, my soul, have multiplied, and there is no physician to heal you.

I am bringing before you examples from the New Scripture, my soul, to lead you to compunction. So emulate the righteous and avoid following the sinners, and regain Christ’s grace by prayers, fasts, purity and reverence.

Christ became man and called to repentance robbers and harlots. Repent, my soul! The door of the Kingdom is already open, and the transformed pharisees, publicans and adulterers are seizing it ahead of you.

Christ became a babe and conversed in the flesh with me, and he voluntarily experienced all that pertains to our nature, apart from sin; and He showed you, my soul, an example and image of His own condescension.

Christ saved wise men, called shepherds, made crowds of infants martyrs, glorified old men and aged widows, whose deeds and life, my soul, you have not emulated. But woe unto you when you are judged!

When the Lord had fasted for forty days in the wilderness, He at last became hungry, showing His human nature. Do not be despondent, my soul, if the enemy attacks you, but let him be beaten off by prayer and fasting. — Troparia from Ode 9, Monday of the First Week of Lent

I have sinned, O Saviour, have mercy! Awaken my mind to conversion, accept me who repent, have compassion on me as I cry: Against Thee only have I sinned and acted lawlessly; have mercy on me.

Elijah the charioteer once ascended by the chariot of the virtues as to heaven and was carried above earthly things. Consider then, my soul, this ascent.

Elisha received double grace from the Lord when he took up Elijah’s sheepskin. But you, my soul, have not shared this grace owing to incontinence.

Jordan’s stream of old was made to stand still on either side by Elisha by Elijah’s sheepskin. But you, my soul, have not shared this grace owing to incontinence.

The Shunammite woman of old with right good will entertained the righteous man. But you, my soul, have taken into your house neither stranger nor traveller. Therefore you will be cast out of the bridal hall wailing.

You have always imitated the vile mind of Gehazi, O wretched soul. Rid yourself of his love of money, at least in old age; escape from the fire of Gehenna by leaving your evil ways. — Troparia from Ode 8, Monday of the First Week of Lent

I have sinned, offended and rejected Thy commandment, for I have advanced in sins and added wounds to my sores. But in Thy compassion have mercy on me, O God of our Fathers.

I have confessed to Thee, my Judge, the secrets of my heart. See my humility, see also my distress, and attend to my judgment now. And in Thy compassion have mercy on me, O God of our Fathers.

When Saul of old lost his father’s asses, besides getting news of them he incidentally found a kingdom. But watch, my soul, lest without noticing it, you prefer your animal cravings to the Kingdom of Christ

If David, the father of our Divine Lord, doubly sinned of old, my soul, when he was pierced with the arrow of adultery and struck with the spear of remorse for murder, yet you have a sickness graver than deeds in your will and appetites.

David once joined sin to sin, for he mixed adultery with murder, yet he immediately offered double repentance. But you my soul, have done things more wicked without repenting to God.

David of old composed a song, painting it as in a picture, by which he exposes the deed he had done, crying: Have mercy on me, for against Thee only have I sinned, Who art God of all. Cleanse me. — Troparia from Ode 7, Monday of the First Week of Lent

I sincerely offer Thee with a pure intention, O Saviour, the tears of my eyes and groans from the depths of my heart, crying: O God, I have sinned against Thee; be merciful to me.

You, my soul, have revolted from the Lord like Dathan and Abiram. But with all your heart cry, “Spare!”, that a yawning gulf of the earth may not swallow you.

Like a stampeding heifer stung to madness, my soul, you have resembled Ephraim. Winged with action, resolve and contemplation, save your life like a gazelle from the noose.

Let Moses’ hand assure us, my soul, how God can whiten and cleanse a leprous life. So do not despair of yourself, even though you are leprous. — Troparia from Ode 6, Monday of the First Week of Lent

I have passed my life ever in night, for the night of sin has been to me thick fog and darkness; but make me, O Saviour, a son of the day.

Like Reuben, wretch that I am, I have planned an unprincipled and lawless act against God Most High, having defiled my bed as he defiled that of his father.

I confess to Thee, O Christ my King: I have sinned, I have sinned, like Joseph’s brothers of old, who sold the fruit of purity and chastity.

Righteous Joseph was given up by his brothers, that sweet soul was sold into slavery, as a type of the Lord; and you, my soul, have sold yourself completely to your vices.

Imitate, wretched and worthless soul, righteous Joseph and his pure mind, and do not be wanton with irrational desires, ever transgressing.

If Joseph of old also occupied a pit, O Sovereign Lord, yet it was as a type of Thy Burial and Rising. But will I ever offer Thee anything like it? — Troparia from Ode 5, Monday of the First Week of Lent

Despise not Thy works and forsake not Thy creation, O just Judge and Lover of men, though I alone have sinned as a man more than any man. But being Lord of all, Thou hast power to pardon sins.

The end is drawing near, my soul, is drawing near! But you neither care nor prepare. The time is growing short. Rise! The Judge is near at the very doors. Like a dream, like a flower, the time of this life passes. Why do we bustle about in vain?

Come to your senses, my soul! Consider the deeds you have done, and bring them before your eyes, and pour out the drops of your tears. Boldly tell your thoughts and deeds to Christ, and be acquitted.

There has never been a sin or act or vice in life that I have not committed, O Saviour. I have sinned in mind, word and choice, in purpose, will and action, as no one else has ever done.

Therefore I am condemned, wretch that I am, therefore I am doomed by my own conscience, than which there is nothing in the world more rigorous. O my Judge and Redeemer Who knowest my heart, spare and deliver and save me, Thy servant.

The ladder of old which the great Patriarch saw, my soul, is a model of mounting by action and ascent by knowledge. So, if you wish to live in activity, knowledge and contemplation, be renewed.

Because of his crying need the Patriarch endured the scorching heat of the day, and he bore the frost of the night, daily making gains, shepherding, struggling, slaving, in order to win two wives.

By the two wives understand action and direct knowledge in contemplation: Leah as action, for she had many children, and Rachel as knowledge, which is obtained by much labour. For without labours, my soul, neither action nor contemplation will achieve success. — Troparia from Ode 4, Monday of the First Week of Lent