Молитва Prayer

               SONG - WORDS AND MUSIC BY THE AUTHOR
       * * *                (Translation into English is provided below)


Есть у всех своя молитва есть она и у меня
я её словами греюсьв них как в оберег войдя
 
а душе от слов тех легче и хотя ещё ропщу
и не знаю как стать крепче и на боль ещё кричу
и ещё в сетях обиды бьётся грешная душа
лишь бы слышать лишь бы видеть
вверх идти не согреша

Я молюсь за мир с любовью ибо мир и есть любовь
и за тех кто пишет кровью и за тех чья льётся кровь
 
а душе от слов тех легче и хотя ещё ропщу
и не знаю как стать крепче и на боль ещё кричу
и ещё в сетях обиды бьётся грешная душа
лишь бы слышать лишь бы видеть
вверх идти не согреша   

Я молюсь чтоб пели птицы без команды и оков
за себя чтоб вновь родиться за попавших в нелюбовь 
   
а душе от слов тех легче и хотя ещё ропщу
и не знаю как стать крепче и на боль ещё кричу
и ещё в сетях обиды бьётся грешная душа
лишь бы слышать лишь бы видеть
вверх идти не согреша   

Есть у всех своя молитва есть она и у меня
я её словами греюсь в них как в оберег войдя
   
а душе от слов тех легче и хотя ещё ропщу
и не знаю как стать крепче и на боль ещё кричу
и ещё в сетях обиды бьётся грешная душа
лишь бы слышать лишь бы видеть
вверх идти не согреша         
   
     * * *

06.12.2017г.
                Тель-Авив
       Питерка
Prayer
by Piterka Badmaeva Olga
 translation by Guru.I
       * * *

Everyone has their own prayer — and I have mine too.
I warm myself with its words,
as if entering a talisman.

And the soul feels lighter from those words —
though I still complain,
and I don’t know how to become stronger,
still I cry out from the pain.

And in the nets of resentment,
my sinful soul keeps struggling —
just to hear, just to see,
to move upward without sin.

I pray for peace with love —
for peace is love itself.
And for those who write in blood,
and for those whose blood is shed.

And the soul feels lighter from those words —
though I still complain…
and I don’t know how to become stronger,
still I cry out from the pain…

And still in the nets of resentment,
my sinful soul keeps struggling —
just to hear, just to see,
to move upward without sin.

I pray that birds may sing
without command or chains.
For myself — to be born again,
and for those who fell into unlovedness.

And the soul feels lighter from those words —
though I still complain…
and I don’t know how to become stronger,
still I cry out from the pain…

And still in the nets of resentment,
my sinful soul keeps struggling —
just to hear, just to see,
to move upward without sin.

Everyone has their own prayer — and I have mine too.
I warm myself with its words,
as if entering a talisman.

And the soul feels lighter from those words —
though I still complain…
and I don’t know how to become stronger,
still I cry out from the pain…

And still in the nets of resentment,
my sinful soul keeps struggling —
just to hear, just to see,
to move upward without sin               

        * * *
.........................................

Prayer
(Poetic translation by Guru.I)
   * * *

Each soul has a prayer to keep —
so do I — it helps me sleep.
I wrap in words, like sacred thread,
a spell to warm the heart and head.

Though still I tremble, still I cry,
I ask for strength — I don’t know why
the pain returns, yet I repeat:
don’t let me fall, don’t face defeat.

In nets of anger, shame, and grief —
my weary soul still seeks relief…
Just let me hear, just let me see,
and rise — with light — and still be free.

I pray for peace — in love’s embrace,
for blood-stained hands and tearful face.
For those who write with final breath,
and those who drown in war and death…

Though still I tremble, still I cry —
I ask for strength, for wings to fly.
My soul still beats inside this snare,
but longs to breathe redeeming air…

I pray that birds may freely sing —
no chains, no orders — only wing.
I pray to rise and live anew,
and for unloved ones — all of you.

Though still I tremble, still I break —
and feel the wounds that will not wake…
Just let me hear, just let me see,
and rise — and rise — and still be free.

                * * *
....................................................

* * *
  Prayer
Piterka Badmaeva Olga
Song – Words and Music by the Author

Everyone has their prayer, and so do I.
I warm myself with its words,
Wrapping myself in them like a charm.

And my soul feels lighter from these words,
Even though I still grumble.
I don’t know how to grow stronger,
And I still cry out in pain.
Still caught in the nets of resentment,
My sinful soul struggles.
If only I could hear, if only I could see,
To rise upwards without sinning.

I pray for peace with love,
For peace itself is love.
I pray for those who write in blood
And for those whose blood is spilled.

And my soul feels lighter from these words,
Even though I still grumble.
I don’t know how to grow stronger,
And I still cry out in pain.
Still caught in the nets of resentment,
My sinful soul struggles.
If only I could hear, if only I could see,
To rise upwards without sinning.

I pray for the birds to sing
Without command or chains.
I pray for myself to be reborn,
For those who have fallen into lovelessness.

And my soul feels lighter from these words,
Even though I still grumble.
I don’t know how to grow stronger,
And I still cry out in pain.
Still caught in the nets of resentment,
My sinful soul struggles.
If only I could hear, if only I could see,
To rise upwards without sinning.

Everyone has their prayer, and so do I.
I warm myself with its words,
Wrapping myself in them like a charm.

And my soul feels lighter from these words,
Even though I still grumble.
I don’t know how to grow stronger,
And I still cry out in pain.
Still caught in the nets of resentment,
My sinful soul struggles.
If only I could hear, if only I could see,
To rise upwards without sinning.

06.12.2017, Tel Aviv   * * *