Translated from Russian
“In the beginning
was the Word ...”
devoted to Fr. Raphael
I’m weeping for the first time. Who could see?
By words who could create these tears?
What does it mean to live, to always go ahead,
When I’ve left everything behind?
By words who could create these tears?
What does it mean to live, to always go ahead,
When I’ve left everything behind?
How can one go away from a locked door
And how not kiss its threshold now,
When all roads only lead away,
and never let one in.
And how not kiss its threshold now,
When all roads only lead away,
and never let one in.
I saw what I had lost forever,
Blessed are those who later would be told -
They can then choose to believe it or not
And shake off the bitter heart load.
Blessed are those who later would be told -
They can then choose to believe it or not
And shake off the bitter heart load.
And how about the first: I saw the light,
And darkness could not overthrow, not overcome it.
And how could I, even after hundred years,
Tell myself it only seemed to be.
And darkness could not overthrow, not overcome it.
And how could I, even after hundred years,
Tell myself it only seemed to be.
For in the first place I am to blame for all
Though cry I’d have as best I can,
And not by drops, but as a waterfall,
Let all sorrow gush out of the soul to earth.
Though cry I’d have as best I can,
And not by drops, but as a waterfall,
Let all sorrow gush out of the soul to earth.
In time, though pain in me abide,
So I may never know what those tears meant,
So like a dog, grieving in the darkness,
I at the sun at least would start to rejoice.
So I may never know what those tears meant,
So like a dog, grieving in the darkness,
I at the sun at least would start to rejoice.
But no, in a palm I’ll hide my face.
What a pity that I can’t foresee a thing.
Looking back over my shoulder I will see
that to ashes pride humiliated me.
What a pity that I can’t foresee a thing.
Looking back over my shoulder I will see
that to ashes pride humiliated me.
No other can my sorrow understand,
It is in my soul as a lasting dry wind,
And it seems I’ll never stand up from my knees,
And cheeks in blood have wiped these tears.
It is in my soul as a lasting dry wind,
And it seems I’ll never stand up from my knees,
And cheeks in blood have wiped these tears.
Now what: he is the only who can help,
He’d uproot bitterness out of the heart,
What does it mean to live, to always go ahead -
When I’ve left everything behind?
He’d uproot bitterness out of the heart,
What does it mean to live, to always go ahead -
When I’ve left everything behind?
Hieromonk Vasiliy (Roslyakov)
/ new martyr of Optyna /
/ new martyr of Optyna /
