Ave Maria — the lamp is quiet,
Four lines in my heart are ready all right:
Blessed Holy Virgin, mother of grief,
Your grace penetrated my soul, I perceive.
Not in a blaze, — in a quiet dream
Appear before her, Heaveny Queen,
Ave Maria — the lamp is quiet,
I said all these lines in a whisper all right
Ave Maria — лампада тиха,
В сердце готовы четыре стиха:
Чистая дева, скорбящего мать,
Душу проникла твоя благодать.
Неба царица, не в блеске лучей —
В тихом предстань сновидении ей!
Ave Maria — лампада тиха,
Я прошептал все четыре стиха.
«Open, Open, / The gates of the tsar! / Darkness dimmed and poured out far. / With clean heat / Burns the altar — / Resurrect, Christ, / Yesterday's tsar! Without glory fell / Two-headed eagle. / Tsar — you were wrong. He'll remember inheritance / Many more times — ...»
«Let us now praise freedom's twilight, / The glorious twilit year! / Into the midnight boiling waters / A massive forest of snares is lowered. / You rise above obscure years, — / O sun, O judge, my people. Let us praise the fateful burden / The people's leader takes up tearfully. — /...»
«Brethren, let’s praise the dusk of freedom / With its great year of twilit gloom, / Its hefty grove of dangling snares / Cast into the night’s jet-black waters! / From under a deaf age’s yoke / You rise, O sun! O judge! O folk! And let us praise the fatal burden / Taken up in tear...»
«Whoever kisses time’s ancient nodding head / will remember later, like a loving son, / how the old man lay down to sleep / in the drift of wheat outside the window. / He who has opened the eyes of the age, / two large sleepy apples with inflamed lids, / hears forever after the roar of ...»