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Eternal Spring

 
The Spring, it caresses with light,
And then the blood so young,
Shy with a bouquet kept so tight,
It meets the love so strong.
 
 
Along with singing of Spring birds,
The gardens in full bloom,
The priceless whisper and the thoughts,
The gifts of moment’s loom.
 
 
Towards the summer leaving,
Into the meadows wealthy cling,
All dressed in shades of greenest,
As nightingales will sing.
 
 
It strengthens, it grows, and it bestows,
It feeds and shares the gifts it has,
It comforts and enchants with love,
And towards Autumn lays its path.
 
 
In beauty transcendental,
A gold will scattered fly,
With widow’s tear not mending,
At times it sometimes cries.
 
 
As gracious as pavé,
Like parade it will flow,
With cheers and shouting “Bravo!”,
With star, it will then fall.
 
 
A nature in quiet hover,
With emptiness of trees,
With snowflakes it will cover,
With blizzard suddenly sings:
 
 
That snow is melting soon,
Earth wakes as droplets ring,
Creator rules the world —
Where there’s eternal Spring.
 

The songs, ballads

Taming The Storm

 
The shores are fading in the distance,
A boat serves them well and obeying
It floats towards blue all so blissful
A middle of the East it is being.
 
 
The speech of Apostles as they sail the sea,
Are quietly murmuring like brooks in a fold
They marvel at miracles that they all see
At all of the glorious acts of the Lord.
 
 
The world of the sea comes alive all around,
And God, the Messiah, it meets
And cries of the birds in the skies make a sound:
“Hosanna, our Lord, and the Christ!”
 
 
The waves are like hands of a Virgin, the Mary,
So lightly that small boat drove,
And sun is like mother that kisses the baby,
So gently it caresses Christ, our Lord.
 
 
He sleeps ahead of boat at top,
Head bowed at the stern,
As in the sleigh, the Lord, our God,
So humble lies just like poor kern.
 
 
Suddenly a wind has been picking,
Chasing the wave after wave,
The bottomless waters awaking,
With natural strength misbehave.
 
 
The sky so harshly has frowned
As lightnings are flashing from eyes
A terrible word came like thunder
My mandate – get Him crucified!
 
 
And waters from the deepest kyle,
Has spattered the boat with saliva.
And waves like the armies of vile,
Was ready to swallow alive.
 
 
“Oh, Lord, save us, from dying!
The boat is in deathly cadence” —
Apostles in fear are crying,
As depth in its roar triumphs.
 
 
King – Pilot rebelled from His sleep:
– “Where is your faith simple as rule?”
That fear you the waves wild and deep
And souls are filled with murmur?”
 
 
And then with His power appealed to the storm,
At Him, the entire world trembled:
Calm down, the wild waters, and waves take a turn
Calm down the wind – turn to amble!”
 
 
The silence has fell all around,
The wind became calm from the shame,
Got quiet and does not make a sound
And sea hardly breathes, all tamed.
 
 
And those who were sat in a boat,
Are asking each other: “Who is it?
Dictates to the nature within single thought,
So humble, the world one is claiming”.
 
 
The oars are playing and creaking so lonely,
Raking all water in circles,
Coming to an end of an uncalm journey,
A peacefulness now it is searching.
 
 
A moon has already arrived at the shore
And everywhere stars shine so bright
And shore meets them all with so pure
And solemn silence inside.
 
The Holy Spirit Monastery. 2000.

The Ballad of the Vilna Martyrs

Dedicated to the suffering of martyrs Anthony, John, and Eustache (names in paganism are Kumets, Nezhilo, and Kruglets).


 
In Lithuania so ancient and wild,
Where the thorns and thistles have raised,
Where sacrifices were made to demons of vile,
Where the pagan ancient gods have been praised.
 
 
A priest-monk appeared out of the blue,
In a prayer and labour he truly believed,
The weeds he destroyed all way through,
An example of life of a saint he lived.
 
 
And in the good soil he sowed,
Not sparing all the sacred seeds,
With faith the harvest he brought,
Before sunrise he stood on his feet.
 
 
And the Orthodox Faith grew,
Attracting hearts from inside.
And in King’s yard he would sew,
A monk of a pure divine light.
 
 
Two wondrous fellows so great,
In their hearts grief quickly leaked,
The large feast they kept in a shade,
Those who kept the Fasts truly strict.
 
 
Yet, then an unrest at the court
The pagans would rise one by one,
To King in a crowd they broke to behold:
“You answer or your head be gone!”
 
 
And King, he was lost in a fright,
Has captured those saints in prison.
He kept them for more than a year inside
And dreamt to break down their will and a reason.
 
 
In prison he often would come just to see
And gently he went as he says:
“My friends, you have to be simply like me!
Where Christ in my soul I praise.
 
 
This mystery I keep so deep and always,
I hid in my heart with no struggle or worry.
For idols they have, I give them my praise,
And honour them all in a glory.
 
 
Listen to the king, my friends!
Olgerd is wishing you only the good,
You’ll have reward and honour at hands,
A sacrifice waits at the idol’s foot.”
 
 
They answered then without fear:
You’re fearing no Christ in your heart.
Realize it at last, good King, our dear,
That the Universe has been made by God.
 
 
A praise just for him should be said,
Forever and ever with love.
Yet, idols to praise, cold and dead,
Is demons so sly, make them laugh.
 
 
And glory in time will collapse,
And body will crumble to dust,
Eternity as a strict judge,
Will make final judgment at last.
 
 
In chains, with Christ we all learn,
Dreaming of world of another.
With freedom our spirit burns,
In joy of eternal like brothers.”
 
 
The rustle of magnificent oaks,
Like hymns of the winds in reply,
Of wondrous saints it spoke,
They hanged them on oak in a while.
 
 
Anthony was name of the one,
Who was the strictest of all in his heart
For glory of Christ, so great he would call,
Became first to appear next to God.
 
 
The other, called John, like a fighter
Inherited glory of crown,
Holding a victory up, bright as lightning,
Peace and a happiness our brother has found.
 
 
Eustathius, a relative close,
By power of saints surprised,
Baptized and sang to the God,
And all the vile idols despised.
 
 
The sinister people were mad,
A court of the vile appeared,
A judgment of truth should be laid,
For Christian people to fear.
 
 
“Beloved, courtier, the Kruglet! —
A pagan priest then has exclaimed, —
You’ve lost love of King that you had,
And with awful death yourself claimed.
 
 
Lithuanian gods did not follow,
And found the rage in their eyes.
Think twice with your mind so much shallow,
Are you wishful to them sacrifice?
 
 
Receive all the love from the court,
We are sorry for you, you can trust.
Repent! – we shall do as foretold,
In our arms we’ll accept you at last.”
 
 
“I choose to suffer with Christ,
Than brotherhood next to a demon”, —
The young sage instantly replied, —
“Our Heavenly Father, I’m dreaming,
 
 
A love so much sacred will rise,
In exchange for curse of the priests.
Your gods, you should soon realize,
Are sins and the vile, none the least.
 
 
The Holy, in Heavens, our Lord,
He is everywhere, always with me.
In chains, broken, poor and unheard,
I’ll praise him for as long as I’ll be.”
 
 
Beaming in his face like an angel,
Eustathius was crowned with a crown.
Among brothers he was the youngest,
And wisest he was among all men around.
 
 
An innocent heart that he had
He sealed for the Christ so much wise,
His beautiful youth of a lad,
He changed for eternal life in Paradise.
 
 
An ancient oak so heavily cried
A witness of their latest times.
And long time since then after while,
Upon tree, the three of them hanging.
 
 
They hung. Not allowed to put down,
So that beasts could tear them apart.
But the Lord who created alive, all around,
The saints were protected by God.
 
 
Then a cloud pillar has lit all from the shade
As the glory from Heavens revealed.
Our Lord, with His hand so glorious and great
To the Heavenly throne them concealed.
 
 
Oh, marvelous pillars of faith!
Through centuries faith Orthodox,
You would so faithfully claim it always,
Like golden ark built by the Noah.
 
 
Your bodies that will never perish
With no words, the praise to dear God they are giving,
A wondrous glory they sing to Creator,
Inspiring all good men that are currently living!
 
The Holy Spirit Monastery, Vilnus. 1997.

A Parental Hymn

 
The stars in the sky are shining so warm,
– By Lord, the Creator, these candles burn.
For souls of departed, for souls of the living,
Big, famous, simple for God, and poor even.
 
 
All world so much infinite, – a Divine temple
Wise and eternal, a God’s gift example.
And this Milky Way will remind to each other,
That souls of departed are forever with Father.
 
 
The moon as a priest, may with smoke to them censer,
And voice full of joy may through Universe descending:
No names are forgotten ever by God
In that world each person in Him signifcance’s got.
 

Dedicated to the 1000-th Anniversary of Russian monasticism on Athos

 
Those whom this world did not deserve,
Hid in the precipices deep,
Those sweet hymns world did not observe,
The God has heard the saints speak.
 
 
No higher music that our God can hear,
Born with a song in silent peace,
Where purest heart is ringing free,
Far from the sinful bustle bliss.
 
 
Chorus:
Jesus Christ, the Son of God,
Have mercy upon us and keep us all safe,
We are walking through path that we’ve got,
Sanctify our path with Thy truest fame.
 
 
In mountains, the deserts, crevices so deep,
A judgment of world has reached its cadence,
To prayers so long, to an infinite weep
God heeded so gently with His providence.
 
 
Then prophets were born to the world,
The heroes, the kings, and even geniuses,
According to faith, their fateful lot,
To ashes with troops their kingdoms have perished.
 
 
Chorus.
Standing for the truth to death A birth where there is no perdition ever.
God’s Spirit in the holy nests
Has taken them towards Eternal Light in Heaven.
 
 
And we shall learn by their faith,
The patience, courage, and the love,
Rejecting body passion for always,
Let’s glorify till down, our God above.
Chorus.
 
Siauliai City, 2015.

Parable of the Hermit

 
There was a prisoner, the priest,
In walls of body all enchained,
A crate for all the rest restrained,
Only to God sings this artist.
 
 
Chorus:
Lord of the world, my Creator,
Your God-God-worshipersings to Thee,
With living water, please, refill me
And doors of heart reveal free.
 
 
As harp of heart is gently turning,
The strings of feelings gently touched,
With Godly memory he’s burning,
With purest prayer mind attached.
 
 
Chorus.
This singer dwells in world another,
Although, at times we all can see,
A citizen of World, this brother,
A master of his own came to be.
 
 
Chorus.
 
April 3-rd, 2018.

Dedication

Dedicated to the Metropolitan Joseph Semashko (1798–1868) and 1.5 million uniates converted to Orthodoxy


 
For ages and ages our people in pain,
Have suffered from delusions for a while
The Latin roots kept them in chains
Under the yoke so strong and so vile.
 
 
The Byzantine is long time gone,
Only the crumbs remaining.
There’s only thing in their eyes, a thorn —
The Slavic prayer’s reigning.
 
 
But providence of God’s love and will,
His only Holy Son,
Was just like “salt” to them revealed,
A quiet light, shining like sun.
 
 
Upon the Holy Christmas Eve
In Little Russia, as we learn,
Along to wondrous bells that ring,
The glorious shepherd’s born.
 
 
Joseph was born by destiny
In gentry roots concealed
Doomed as a uniate is he,
As told by father’s will.
 
 
But honey bee collects always
Nectar from fragrant fower’s bell,
And then we know that there are days
When poisonous ones are met as well.
 
 
And as he studied, as he grew
In Gospel science he has found use,
Prelate of Christ, he then came through
In Spirit and in Truth!
 
 
Rejecting faith of princes that they tried to hang,
Along with traps of them so sly,
A nightingale of Spirit sang —
A song of Truth inside his cry.
 
 
And once upon the ship he came,
As helmsman tall, ascended on
And people called after his name
To reach towards the father’s home,
 
 
And with this truth omnipotence
Connected by the love
“Rejected by the violence
To heavenly powers above.
 
 
They told us: guard it with no rest,
This Holy Faith we’re given,
An Orthodoxy serve each breath
To Holy Truth as we are living.
 
 
Oh, our faith of glory great,
The greatest of the ruling ways,
Inside the spirit’s strength you find,
Oh, Orthodox, it's our Faith!
 
 
A strength of spirit lies in it concealed,
In Orthodox ways, all of you may live.
 

In Glory of Boris and Gleb

 
Of whom shall we sing, oh, the children of Rus,
With pure love, fraternal and great,
Whose souls to us like the dew drops come through,
With history so sweet relate.
 
 
This story is both very bitter and sweet,
Up to the Heavens has reached their glory.
A great example for saints, it serves, indeed,
To the glory of Gleb and the Boris!
 
 
Two Abels – the brothers of an innocent fate,
In wickedness of Cain, the brother,
You are salt of the Earth, so endless and great,
With honour so holy and quiet like no other.
 
 
The Sons, the Peacemakers, the covenant of Christ,
You are the martyrs so great,
Warm hearts of the people in prayer that rises,
And may all the wars in oblivion fade.
 

Mother – Byzantium! Daughter – The Russia Holy

 
The spring has come, the church bells are ringing,
The temple is hearing an Easter’s call singing.
 
 
Chorus:
Mother-Byzantium! Daughter – the Russia Holy.
Upon the ashes of Faith, on my path I walk only.
 

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