At Christmas
a poem by the Bulgarian Orthodox monk – arch. Seraphim (translated by Dimita)
a poem by the Bulgarian Orthodox monk – arch. Seraphim (translated by Dimita)
Fly snowflakes, fly and ring the
bells!
'cause tomorrow is Christmas, holiday great!
Be white wide fields
The world to be white, to be clean
as a temple
'cause tomorrow is Christmas, holiday great!
Be white wide fields
The world to be white, to be clean
as a temple
So when,
when Christ from His icons looks at our world
To see that the earth looks like paradise
That the sky showers blessings on us!
when Christ from His icons looks at our world
To see that the earth looks like paradise
That the sky showers blessings on us!
Fly snowflakes! Cover everything
–
Feelings unbrotherly, puddles and garbage,
pain and sorrows in the heart all alone!
Everywhere to be white and joyous today!
Feelings unbrotherly, puddles and garbage,
pain and sorrows in the heart all alone!
Everywhere to be white and joyous today!
Fly snowflakes, fly!
No more piles of mud in the yards!
No sign of malice in the hearts!
Over sorrows unknown, over tears sad
The Bethlehem’s wonderful star to shine!
Fly snowflakes, fly!
No more piles of mud in the yards!
No sign of malice in the hearts!
Over sorrows unknown, over tears sad
The Bethlehem’s wonderful star to shine!
Fly snowflakes, fly!
*********************
Where is Bethlehem?
On this
pure holiday,
when the
world saw a star
above
Bethlehem
to Jesus
Christ,
let’s go
Brethren
a
Christmas gift
to give
to Him
Amidst
sleeping people
with
kind news
He
appeared as a man
But
angels don’t sing today
And
Bethlehem is so far away.
Where
will we find Him -
the
kind, benign God Man – Jesus?
In
distant or nearby lands?
Without
Him,
empty is
the holiday
Should
we search in a rich home?
But God
hid himself in misery
And took
upon Himself
Every
little brother’s grief and sorrow
He must
be in the frost
In a
tumbledown house outside, in the outskirts of the city
What
does He expect from us,
having
chosen hunger for Himself?
Perhaps,
He is quite alone
And is
looking at the silent doors
Will
someone appear there
in His
sorrow
To visit
Him!
His
sacred misery
is a
silent reproach and a gentle call
He waits in his loneliness for a hearty gift, for a crumb of
love!
Oh, brothers, let us with sincere fervor
stop by the
grieving neighbor
Knock - Jesus is there! -
And there, there is Bethlehem!
Knock - Jesus is there! -
And there, there is Bethlehem!
Where is Bethlehem?
a poem
by the Bulgarian Orthodox monk – arch. Seraphim (translated by Dimita)
0 comments:
Post a Comment