Мольба [Mol'ba] [English translation]

Would I have strength to cease to love

And not to fall in love moreover?

To disengage our long embrace,

To part our ways, both stoned leftovers?

Oh, how to miss chance to return?

Oh, how to fail to see your pardon?

To stomach things that can't be borne,

Forgive and yet not let hate harden?

Yet God is mute, for sin so grave,

For ever doubting Almighty,

God has chastised them all with love,

So they would learn in throes to trust Him.

I have been blessed, I have been cruel,

In all my envious desires,

That by a birthmark, by one jewel,

Less gorgeous were you for this liar.

But you were heavenly, divine,

Till soul delirium were splendid.

My hope you burned as bitter wine,

And yet I pray with full abandon.

Yet God is mute, for sin so grave,

For ever doubting Almighty,

God has chastised them all with love,

So they would learn in throes to trust Him.

To reave your royalty, dethrone,

To kiss till death at all way stations,

To strip, to ravage, to expose,

I tried to make your beauty vanish.

Oh, let her shadow, my dark cross,

Forever follow me till I rot.

Oh, give me flock of nightly crows,

To peck to death my doubts, why not?

Yet God is mute, for sin so grave,

For ever doubting Almighty,

God has chastised them all with love,

So they would learn in throes to trust Him.