О, светлая даль!
О, милость и мир!
О, весна и печаль!
Во веки -
с тобой,
неисцельно проста,
замешана в тесте закваска.
И та
пребудет, доколе
Он Сам не придет.
Восходит! Восходит!
Грядет!
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Обо мне
- olshananaeva
- Christ is in our midst! ...The domed interior swallows up the day. Here, where to light a candle is to pray, The candle flame shows up the almond eyes Of local saints who view with no surprise Their martyrdoms depicted upon walls On which the filtered daylight faintly falls. The flame shows up the cracked paint - sea-green blue And red and gold, with grained wood showing through - Of much kissed icons, dating from, perhaps, The fourteen century... Thus vigorously does the old tree grow, By persecution pruned,watered with blood, Its living roots deep in the pre-Christian mud. It needs no bureaucratical protection. It is its own perpetual resurrection... (John Betjeman)
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