Having shone like a many-bright star, / in the cathedral church before the most pure and miraculous image of the Most Pure Mother of God, / suffered for Nyuzhe and for the city of Smolensk, / the many-wily and godless king Frighten Batu,/ and defeat the mighty giant, and surprise people,/ put down your soul, long-suffering Mercury, for piety,/ as Zechariah and Abel, your blood clearly cries out to To the Lord. // And now pray for our souls.
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