The most I love in the church service-
When cross procession starts to go
And gonfelons they carry forwards
And like a river people flow.
And candles, candles- like the lightspots
Of sacraments at lunar sea.
And in the sky saint countenances
And benediction Is in me.
And so humble and obedient
And peace returning this cross course.
It seems – the multitude of singers
«Saint and Immortal» highly flows.
And then at last I understand
What for Our Lord my soul created
And why for Paradise I strive,
Where the cross pace is never ending.
Of such a course to Heaven
Your soul into small pieces turns.
To meet her God she is not ready,
And at a candle tear drops.
But Our God spares weak and wicked
And He himself heals every scar,
Washing away like banks of river
The borders between soul and sky.
Cross procession
© Copyright: Елизавета Судьина, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114031005747
Свидетельство о публикации №114031005747
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