Tears of happiness flow down my cheeks
from mild feeling that you exist,
from assurance that you saved.
Thank you, Saint John, again and agian!
***
Слезы счастья текут по щекам -
умиление, что ты есть,
и уверенность, что спасал.
вновь и вновь - спасибо тебе!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In truth a saint doesn't need a poem: he or she already has supernatural rewards and in that context poetry has to accept its secondary presence. But the ordinary human being, flawed, in need of mercy, confused, that's the person who needs poetry as a recipient, or a writer, or a reader. This brief poem affirms what need to be affirned and then the silence of a contented soul prevails.