O, righteous God,
Hear my prayers
For the souls of those who are perishing
Without absolution;
For all those anguishing,
For all those suffering,
For those striving toward You,
For those ignorant of You!
I do not beg for obedience And hope
For you, the humble,
Whose life — is silence.
For you, who are meek in spirit.
You, who are pure of heart,
The thorny paths Are easy and joyful.
But for you, the rebellious,
Those who have sorely fallen away,
Who have confused ecstasy
With madness and evil,
For the torments of these chosen,
For the pain of their moment —
I beg awareness
And revelation!
О, Боже праведный!
Внемли моления
За души гибнущих
Без искупления;
За всех тоскующих,
За всех страдающих,
К Тебе стремящихся,
Тебя не знающих!
Не вам, смиренные,
Чья жизнь — молчание,
Молю покорности
И упования.
Вам, духом кроткие,
Вам, сердцем чистые,
Легки и радостны
Тропы тернистые.
Но вам, мятежные,
Глубоко павшие,
Восторг с безумием,
И злом смешавшие;
За муки избранных,
За боль мгновения —
Молю познания
И откровения!
«In the sleep to me is given / Our last eden of stars up high / City of clean water towers, / Golden Bakchisarai There behind a colored fencing / By the pensive water stalled / Gardens of the Tsar's Village / With rejoicing we recalled. And the eagles of Catherine / Suddenly recognize...»
«I have visions of hilly Pavlovsk, / Meadow circular, water dead, / With most heavy and most shady, / All of this I will never forget. / / In the cast-iron gates you will enter, / Blissful tremor the flesh does rile, / You don't live, but you're screaming and ranting / Or you live in...»
«Immortelle's dry and pink. On the fresh heaven / The clouds are roughly pasted, almost dark. / The leaves of only oak within the park / Are still remaining colorless and thin. The rays of dusk until midnight are burning. / How nice it is inside my cramped abode! / Today with me converse m...»
«She came up. I did not show my worry, / Calmly looking outside the windows. / She sat down, like ceramic idol / In a long-ago-chosen pose. To be happy — is well-accustomed, / But attentive — is harder just might. / Or the dark shadow has been overpowered / After many a jasmine Marc...»