III. Духовные стихотворения

On the way 469 (Optina Pustyn) Carrying a worldly yoke and performing sorrowful In the midst of darkness and rapids, the thorny path of life, I was honored to see a glimpse of Paradise. And a lot of strength into my tormented chest, Filled with the pangs of sadness and doubt, I was inspired by that blissful vision. Slave to the vain world, faithful performer His grave statutes, monks' monastery I, guided by Providence, visited; And many wonderful, bright inspirations And I experienced new feelings in her with my heart, Sinless joys and wondrous impressions. Abode of peace, bright hopes. Holy prayers, heavenly contemplations, Spiritual exploits, saving works! The Creative Power protects you; Love She gave you love And she spread Her cover over you. Your inhabitants are people not of the world; They flocked here to the prophetic call of God, Dressed in humility as in royal purple. Humbly thinking, thinking about heavenly things, They wait patiently for the blissful end. Trusting in the Lord with all my heart. May they be rewarded with a victorious crown, And for your labors, and sorrows, and hardships They will receive life on blessed Sunday. Blissful land, blessed country, That she sheltered humble monks, And she gave them a place among the pastures. In times of sorrow she saved her more than once The prayers of the monastery have divine power. A series of centuries passed over her; Generations of people changed around her, And many troubles befell God's decree, But they left no mark on her. God-protected, from the ashes of destruction, Like an ancient phoenix, she was reborn. The storm of life is not scary for her, No lightning, no thunderclouds. She stands unshakably among the waves, Like an age-old cliff, both formidable and powerful. And the one who is exhausted and drowns. Fighting the wave, let the anchor drop here And life will direct the boat here. Heritage of centuries, dark pine forest On its sides there is a dense forest; There is silence, there is space for silence. There is complete freedom for the saints’ feelings and thoughts; Only the noise of the trees can be heard sometimes. When their peaks are shaken by the flying wind. The skies are clearer here and their azure is purer. Here the pier is quiet from all the storms of life For those who yearn for eternal salvation. Who has realized his sin and is full of contrition Stands before the Lord with his head bowed And he completely seeks reconciliation with Him; Who longs for new life, rebirth, In whom the spring of living water has not dried up; Who has not lost faith in the Christian ideal And his creative power began, I did not faint under the burden of sorrows and hearing The saint did not turn away from the voice of truth, And he didn’t bury his best thoughts and feelings forever; Who recognized with all his yearning soul. That life is vanity, languor of spirit; Who, like a stranger in a foreign land, Doomed himself to sorrow and deprivation - Everyone will find peace here And bright joy, holy peace of mind. Liberation from the captivity of heavy passions. Blessed is he who bears the cross here with patience: He will be renewed entirely, both in heart and in mind; All his thoughts will be about one thing - To gain eternal salvation beyond the grave. And he will love Christ with all his soul, And his heart and lips will be filled with joy, And he will comprehend, full of amazement. That there are other, higher aspirations, There is another love, another beauty: That spiritual life is the realm of the ideal And the beginning of another – eternal – existence. There is its first sound, its initial feature... An anxious soul has nowhere to rest: Sickness and labor, great suffering, A whirlwind of confusion, contempt, blame The ascetic is met; he sees How sorrows arise from all sides, And he stands there, filled with doubts. Anxious, heavy thoughts, bewilderment. Overwhelmed by languor and melancholy. He knows neither joy nor peace, And he doesn’t expect help from anywhere. As soon as from the Savior Christ. And his evil enemies shout to him from everywhere: “Whoa! Let him come down from the cross!” My friend in the Lord! Go for it! Do not stop the great, difficult battle, And don’t leave the battlefield at all - Don't give up the Divine Prayer! Continue in the feat until death, until the end: Victory awaits you, spiritual fighter. Let not the bones of your soul be crushed 471, Let her strongholds and pillars not shake, When the malicious guests approach her - There are countless crowds of demonic thoughts. Smite them in the almighty name of the Lord; Persecuted by Him, the enemy will be scattered! Covered with wisdom filled with humility, This robe of the imperishable Divinity, To the invisible enemies of spiritual salvation Don't bring victory to celebration! Endure insults and persecution without complaint. Don't leave the sad path - Spiritual benefits of the sacred pledge, Live for eternity, for God - The one true and eternal beauty, Dedicate your entire life to Him. Throwing away false hopes and dreams, Take courage in the harsh feat And you will see life in a new light. And the hour will strike, the time will come. Your spiritual battle will cease - An involuntary painful tribute to passions; And with joy you will lift the burden Misfortunes, troubles, persecutions and sorrows. In your soul, free from passions. Heavy doubts and anxiety will disappear, And the spiritual light will shine in her - Heiress of the Heavenly Palace. A wonderful world will be established - Paradise, And her unity will be accomplished with the Lord. Your sadness will disappear without a trace And you will see, full of amazement, Another country's shining distance - Lands of the living, lands of promise - Future reward for the feat. (To celebrate the day of the Council of Our Lady - December 26) Creative life breathes there Or does death reign? And he hears Removed from him for the crime Boundless and silent, There are also myriads in it, And above this kingdom of light, The ancient Kremlin is high, And before the face is the light of a lamp... Full of heavenly meekness, How, humbled before a bitter fate, I surrendered to God's will... For many years, like the wind in a field, I remember the deserted ringing of the church And the old chanting of prayers. The darkness of the vaults, the colonnade. Do you see, Most Holy Virgin, Heart - a feeling of contrition And my passions are agitated. Passionate, angry, proud And reconciliation with the Almighty. With the saints in the Kingdom of Glory, (To the grave of Professor V.V.B.) 472 And feelings of spiritual beauty People's hearts strove for him. But the last hour was approaching. Struck by death, he faded away, Faded! But the joy of hope, And the light of aspirations and desires, Sage! he lived without hesitation And he walked with a firm foot To the halls of holy truth. In this world of evil and troubles He did not seek vain glory; Holy heavenly consolations! He acquired the highest wisdom, - Holy wisdom is not from the world; He did not reject these little ones; Didn't collect silver and gold And he loved his enemy like a brother. Always effective and new Awakened in the souls of those who fell asleep He is the light of the Divine principles, And for the highest good of aspiration, And the powerful power of inspiration To the foot of eternal beauty! Filled with high joy, In centuries past he followed Paths of deep wisdom Standing in this desert of life The Church of Christ is like a rock. Like an impregnable stronghold There is no filth or vice in her; The Divine spirit rested in her, She will remain pure forever. It contains glory, wisdom, beauty! And they will crumble to dust before her, Accomplishing a difficult feat To the best of our God-given strength. With all the order of a wonderful life. Loving Christ with all my heart Didn't fall under the weight of the cross! Let us pray that the Creator For the blessed and right path, As a confessor - in the Kingdom of Glory! In memory of the deceased elder of Optina Pustyn, Hieroschemamonk Fr. Ambrose Blessed are those servants whose master is when he comes, he will find them awake. Blessed is he who travels a difficult path. I did not serve perishable idols, In whose pure heart is the King of Heaven Blessed is he who has conquered passions And he was alien to vain aspirations. Who amidst everyday troubles He bore his cross without complaint, And he was a comforter to the mourners, And before the world, lying in evil, How could a slave not bend his knees! Who was alien to anger and pride, And Eternal Life, and shrines, Like luminous goodness; Who realized with all his soul The futility and lies of carnal joy, How a wanderer and stranger lived In the midst of a blinding world. And I didn’t taste the fat meat. Blessed is he who from his youth despised This world is both vain and false Who burned with jealousy for God And he longed for eternal salvation; Didn't know anger or doubt And under the cover of higher powers, And full of bright hopes, He entered the monastery as a monk... Blessed is he who has kept the faith To your high calling! To whom for the feat in retribution The beginning of future creations, Sent the gift of knowledge high Your deep wisdom, Your mysterious miracles! Blessed is he who is among troubles and evils I kept the gospel verb, And crucified the flesh with its passions, And overthrew the lawless oppression, Strives to the eternal abode, - Where the Savior reigns in glory With the Father and the Spirit, and before Them In memory of the elder of Optina Pustyn, Hieroschemamonk Fr. Anatolia (Successor and bearer of the elder covenants after the death of the elder hieroschemamonk Father Ambrose) He served like a heavenly angel, Full of faith, before the Lord of hosts, Like a lamp shining among us! We all remember the solemn hour. When he was clothed in the schema And with tears they laid him in the coffin, And they prayerfully honored his memory, Having sung a funeral song over him, - A holy and sad farewell song: “Rest, O Christ, the soul of Your servant With the saints, where there is no sighing. No sickness, no voice of lamentation. But one reigns eternal All-blessed life endless!” Oh, beloved Abba, dear! We believe that with a pure soul, Having followed the right path of truth. You stand before the Lord of Glory In the eternal light of the Heavenly abodes! In the face of His faithful servants! We, exhausted by mental struggle, Remember the saint in prayer! Like fallen leaves from trees... This earthly life is sad! The region of eternal bliss, paradise, The kingdom of non-evening beauty. (On the day of the opening of the relics of St. Seraphim, the Wonderworker of Sarov, July 19, 1903) Like in ancient times with the rod of the prophet Moses The Lord worked miracles in Egypt, And through the holy bones of Elisha Raised the dead to life, And he brought forth water from a stone in the desert, So by the grace of the Almighty Creator His chosen holy bodies And their bones work miracles to this day In all the greatness of their power and sacredness. May the crazy voices be silenced. Those who speak pride in truth, Those who have rejected the Lord Christ - Let him thirst and come to Me and drink 473 For a long time there has been a desire lurking in my soul - Cut off all ties with the vain world, To begin a different life - a life of feat: Retire to the monastery of monks forever, Where I could cry and pray! Having escaped the rebellious and harsh environment, To bear sorrows and labors there without complaint And I thirst to quench new spiritual life, Repentance will bear worthy fruits, And courageously stand in the victorious ranks The great host of the army of Christ. Consecrated to the rank of bishop, Saint Theodosius, You were the light of your flock... (Troparion to St. Theodosius of Chernigov, In hours of anxious and vague excitement It rises in my soul from time to time Like the wondrous sound of holy chants A blessed and wonderful vision. I see a city and an ancient church, And the poplars around it are thick. Shining altar, golden lamps, Rows of holy icons, people praying, Saint with tears of tenderness Performing wondrous service, And the domes, above them - a starry vault, And faces filled with prayerful feelings... The tomb stands there solemnly; Spiritual giant and warrior of God's army. Filled with the gifts of heavenly grace, Saint Theodosius rests in it - Free doctor and healer of the weak, Spiritual comforter for those who mourn and cry. Mighty guardian of his native country - And the choir of singers thunders his praise!.. Wonderland, oh my holy Russia! Crowds of foreigners crowd around you And they are trying to occupy your feet... But you are coming, my dear country, Forward with hope in the Lord Christ, Humbly bowing under the weight of the cross. Keeping His holy commandments. Be faithful to them from generation to generation. The power of rebirth lies within you Peoples of the world. Towards the light of Sunday And into the Kingdom of Life, full of joy, You will lead them with a powerful right hand, And your spiritual fruit will increase a hundredfold, Blessed, happy country!.. Still covered with a white veil Fields; the forest stands silently In his silver headdress. But creative force blows everywhere - in spring, And the vault of heaven is brighter and lighter, And the gaze drowns in its vastness. When, oh Lord, there is sickness in my soul. Weak, sad and mourning The life-giving Holy Spirit will blow A jubilant spiritual spring?.. Long ago, in the days of youth gone by, A holy fire burned within me. Was serene and living The Spirit invisibly kept in her From emptiness, melancholy, languor. But I got carried away with the noisy life; Your innocence, beauty, I couldn't save it, I'm crazy! And a whirlwind of passions But again I cried out to God With tears of bitter regrets, And He clung to my groans And again called to a wonderful life, During his lifetime, the Elder published his poems under the pseudonym “The Wanderer.” Rev. John Climacus says: “Strike your adversaries in the name of Jesus, for there is no strongest weapon either in heaven or on earth” (Lestvichn. Sl. 21, ch. 7). The teaching of the Holy Fathers on the Jesus Prayer is set forth in particular detail by Bishop Ignatius (Works of Bishop Ignatius. St. Petersburg, 1889. Published by Tuzov). Also ep. Theophan the Recluse (Letters about spiritual life. M. 1882) and the elder of Optina Pustyn, Hieroschemamonk Ambrose. The great contemporary ascetics mentioned above experienced the path of the Jesus Prayer, so their thoughts on this subject amaze readers with their strength and depth. Especially the works of Bishop. Ignatius arouses in the reader a saving zeal to follow the prayer path commanded by the Holy Fathers not only to monks, but also to the laity - a difficult and sad path at the beginning, but joyful at the end. – Note by Rev. Barsanuphia. Under the word “bones”, found in the psalms of St. The Prophet David, interpreters understand good thoughts that strengthen the soul on the path of piety (Euphimy Zigaben. Explanatory Psalter. Kyiv, 1883, Ps. 33:21 and Ps. 34:10). – Note by Rev. Barsanuphia. Bolotov Vasily Vasilyevich († 1900) – doctor of church history, professor at the St. Petersburg Theological Academy, author of the four-volume “History of the Ancient Church” and many articles.