Gavrila Derzhavin
God

O Thou, in universe so boundless,
alive in planets as they swarm
within eternal flow, yet timeless,
unseen, you reign in triune form!
Thy single Spirit all comprises,
from no abode or cause arises,
keeps paths that Reason never trod,
pervades, incarnate, all that's living,
embracing, keeping and fulfilling,
to Thee we give the name of GOD!

To put the ocean depths to measure,
to sum the sands, the planet's rays,
a lofty mind might want at leisure —
but knows no rule for Thee, nor scales!
Nor can the spirits brought to seeing,
born from Thy light into their being,
trace the enigmas of Thy ways:
our thought, with daring, space traverses,
approaching Thee, in Thee disperses, —
a blink in the Abyss — no trace.

Thou didst call forth great Chaos's presence
from out the timeless, formless deep,
and then didst found Eternal essence,
before the Ages born in Thee:
within Thyself didst Thou engender
Thy selfsame radiance's splendour,
Thou art that Light whence flows light's beam.
Thine ageless Word from the beginning
unfolded all, for aye conceiving,
Thou wast, Thou art and Thou shalt be!

The chain of Being Thou comprisest,
and dost sustain it, give it breath;
End and Beginning Thou combinest,
dost Life bestow in Thee through death.
As sparks disperse, surge upward, flying,
so suns are born from Thee, undying;
as on those cold, clear winter's days
when specks of hoarfrost glisten, shimmer,
gyrate and whirl — from chasms' glimmer
so Stars cast at Thy feet bright rays.

Those billions of lumens flaming
flow through the measureless expanse,
they govern laws, enforce Thy bidding,
they pour forth life in gleaming dance.
Yet all those lampions thus blazing,
those scarlet heaps with crystal glazing,
or rolling mounds of golden waves,
all ethers in their conflagration,
each world aflame in its own station —
to Thee — they are as night to day.

A drop of water in the ocean:
such is Creation in Thy sight.
What sets the Cosmos into motion?
And what — before Thee — what am I?
Should I count worlds, afloat by billions
in heaven's seas on unseen pinions,
and multiply them hundredfold,
then dare compare to Thee their measure,
they'd form a blot for quick erasure:
and so, before Thee, I am Naught.

Before Thee, Naught! — And yet Thy brightness
shines forth through me by Thy good grace;
Thou formest in me Thine own likeness,
as in a drop Sol finds its trace.
But Naught? — Yet Life in me is calling,
uplifts me in an upward soaring
beyond the clouds my course to chart;
in search of Thee my Spirit wanders,
it reasons, contemplates and ponders:
I am — assuredly, Thou art!

Thou art! Thus claim the laws of Nature,
this Truth my heart has erstwhile known,
it gives my mind the strength to venture:
Thou art! — No naught, my Self I own!
Made part of universal order,
and set, meseems, not on its border,
but in Creation's central site,
whence crowned Thou Earth with creatures living,
with light celestial spirits filling,
and linked through me their chain of life.

I bind all worlds Thou hast
created, creation's top and crown am I,
to be Life's centre I am fated,
where mortal borders on Divine.
My body sinks to endless slumber,
and yet my mind commands the thunder,
a king — a slave — a worm — a god!
I am most marvellously fashioned,
yet, whence came I? I cannot fathom:
myself could not this self have wrought.

Thy creature am I, O Creator!
Thy wisdom shaped me, gave me form,
blest Giver, Life's Originator,
O Soul of mine own soul — my Lord!
to Thy Truth was it necessary
for my immortal soul to carry
its life, unscathed, o'er Death's abyss,
my spirit should don mortal cover,
so that I might return, O Father,
through death to Thine immortal bliss.

Ungraspable, beyond all knowledge,
my feeble fancy's listless flight
can never capture, I acknowledge,
the merest shadow of Thy light;
but hast Thou need of exaltation?
No mortal's pale imagination
could craft a song fit for Thine ears,
but must instead — to Thee aspiring,
Thy boundless variance admiring —
pour forth, before Thee, grateful tears.

Translated by Alexander Levitsky