Elena Obraztsova Poem by Liza Sud
Elena Obraztsova
Only Elena I was born to hear
And hearing by saint motif to please.
My main organ is – ears, ears, ears,
Only this sphere I have to increase.
Elena Obraztsova saved me now
By her great voice she simply put me up
Above the world, myself and my vain house,
With happiness into my soul has drowned.
Her art is bliss in a purification,
And she emraces as a holy mom,
Drags to herself to where is the perfection
And never lets to carnal falling down.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 1:17:19 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I know this singer from opera recordings, right now I'm playing a cd of ALEXANDER NEVSKY - she sings the beautiful lament The Field of the Dead. You start by saying her voice saved you which is an amazing praise for beloved singer, but I can believe it. Your description of the spiritual effect of her voice in the line HER VOICE IS BLISS IN PURIFICATION expresses the truest gift of an artist to her truest listener. What all of this points to is that ART CAN BE REDEMPTIVE.