Liza Sud

Selected Translations From Miracle Of St.John - Poem by Liza Sud

Maybe a beggar died in Petersburg,
While here on the board of ship we sail
For those homeless, whom we gave no food,
Forever we will burn in flame.

The ship is burning and the cabin
And horror to the soul has come.
People are left without haven,
But vengeance was found by God.

And bitterly has wept the homeless,
while sitting lonely on the beach.
And he did not believe on Volga
The benefactors float and rich.

And all of us are reading Bible
And watch the iconostasis
But never go to help each other
As if not saved by Jesus Christ.

This poor hungry little baby -
He suffered here for three years.
And as for rich and fattened zanies
Our Lord forever punished them.

The child is weak, but grown-up is also.
And there is a limit to our force.
We all are  helpless. And the lowliness
Is what the human's fate if for.

And the best way - is the forgiving
Of what we failed to do ourselves.
We all are criminals before Him.
And like the mirror are our friends.

And niether man, and not a woman -
But a new angel in Lord Christ -
A soul, ascended to the mountain,
To remain humble in the heights.
Last step of our way is humility,
When everything's already gained
And all the virtues creativity
On stone of faith in Christ is based.

Oh meek; ; humility and mildness,
What often Lord Himself was called:
I ask of You that in the madness
Away from me you didn't go.

When in the cellers children died
They always looked at me.
But the main thing - I also looked at them.
They certainly then did not understand that
It seemed to them - that they are thrown away.

And more than reciprocity in glance.
How much the martyrs for Myself I love.
Noone of them I ever lose or bounce
For everyone of them I'll refuge find.

If right away - it would be even better.
Fair kids paradise is not on Earth.
And here I'll wait for sins begetters -
If anyone of them to Me returns.

God looks at people. Always, always does.
Wherever were you - everywhere is God.
Then he'll reveal your life - in forty days
It will be scrolled like information back.

He will recount all your tears.
And every tear He'll turn to adamant.
Cause virtues are the Mountais of Treasures.
He'll give you Grace if you in patience stand.

Cross procession
The most I love in the church service-
When cross procession starts to go
And gonfelons they carry forwards
And like a river people flow.

And candles, candles- like the lightspots
Of sacraments  at lunar sea.
And in the sky saint countenances
And benediction Is in me.

And so humble and obedient
And peace returning this cross course.
It seems - the multitude of singers
«Saint and Immortal»  highly flows.

And then at last I understand
What for Our Lord my soul created
And why for Paradise I strive,
Where the cross pace is never ending.

Of such a course to Heaven
Your soul into small pieces turns.
To meet  her  God she is not ready,
And at a candle tear drops.

But Our God spares weak and wicked
And He himself heals every scar,
Washing  away  like banks of river
The borders  between soul and sky.

And I dream holy dreams of Easter
On this night of a saintly love,
That my friends will come back to kiss me
And will warm me like burning lights,

There we will be always smiling,
Like the angels from that far land
Where nothing bad is abiding:
No sin, no malice, no lie.
I love you, spiritual children.
I forgive you, demons, mischiefs.
All that you've done unto me,
No more pain in the flesh I feel.

And when I am with Christ together
You may beat me or even burn -
In the light of His Love forever
I'm plunged. And it doesn't hurt.
I adore you, the nights of Easter.
At them like every branch is burned
Writong of all my sins is missed now.
And the scroll to the shreds is torn.

And so sorry for every grass blade
I would like to press head to it -
Earth seems boundless, time seems endless,
Full of meaning is every wink.
Only God is in every grass blade -
May I see Him in her, peruse?
As she grew from fleck of dust there,
As how now she exudes juice.

Show it to me, God, I'm pleading!
Or I never can see the grass!
Yes I knew it, but to repeat it
I could never learn how or grasp.
Stream, my song, and the words are playing,
And the soul goes into gloom.
With infinity fused forever
And she can know every doom.

Oh how much, God, you gave us, further!
And how we don't deserve all that!
Without Me all you work's demolished
And in quietness You abide.
Stream, my song, and the words are playing,
And the soul goes into gloom.
With infinity fused forever
And she can know every doom.

Oh how much, God, you gave us, further!
And how we don't deserve all that!
Without Me all you work's demolished
And in quietness You abide.
What I give you always - is Myself.
Anything for you I do not mind to spare.
Such a Holy Love and saint embrace
Is to give you everything without a trace.

I forgive you everything of Love.
Boundless My love, without vestiges.
From celestial latitude unbound -
I'm coming down to you in centuries.

St. John and a girl
Once in a park distressful I was sitting,
 And an unknown man came from the street:
" Serving to God, like priest, I'm hear
 To help you, open, please your heart to me,

 And be sincere". "Of suicide I'm thinking.
 All relatives abandoned me".
"God, Jesus Christ of everyone is grieving,
 And how do you say, in you there is no need".

And suddenly my heart stopped aching,
 As if an angel talked to me,
 And then the people told me, it was there
 Saint John of Kronstadt, whom I've seen.

John of Kronstadt and young trader
When I was young and lived in Kronstadt
And my first trade have just began,
I suffered bad luck and misfortune,
But once the priest at my door tapped -

'I'm watching after you, my brother,
In your small home is Paradise!
Why not to save the child, you Father!
Why do you drink, make hell for wife? '

This Christlike person, made a favour -
To tears mitigated me.
And I resumed my former trading.
And now construct a church for him.
John of Kronstadt at the station
When people hurried through rail station
As if they had unopened eyes -
One priest there stopped in common motion
And started hall to scrutinize.

It seemed as if there was someone
Who groaned and he saw a man.
He turned around repeating sermon
And quickly then to helpless run.

How they drew him away and beat him -
All that man quietly explained.
It was indifferent to people,
But John there for help remained.

When you received the Nobel Prize,
You looked as if you handed it.
And I thought then, that poets love
All people no regard of seat.

Such are the saints - as if there were
people much better than themselves.
So paradoxical it goes.
Lord in humility - exalts.
One day God an awful pain upon me imposed:
He told me - whenever you do - I can do it better.
And when He almost to death me caused -
I subdued - and the world became more obedient.

It was a terrible awful stroke.
Yes, there was joy in it, hard attention.
It also was an almost unbearable shock
Of connection between Him and his very small creation.

He just started to scroll my life and replay it back,
Lighted up at my sins till my blessedness.
And to look at it further I couldn't - I understand,
Because usually what it's finished by we call -  death.

John and rich
One day a dignitary person
Decided to attend a church.
But there were many of those,
Who wanted to apply to John.

'Oh Let me go, I am a General's son!
Leave me alone! Don't smudge me, dirty mob! '-
He rudely made; ; his way to Father John.
But latter looked upon the poor folk.

'I am the friend of Tsar! Have billions! '
'Then do you need my help? I doubt.'
You have the grace of God in pockets, dear '-
And Father John went out to the crowd.

'What do you want to get? Or are you sick?
What can I do for you, poor men, for help? ..
I have no time '- he said to man, and rich
Could only see Saint John to turn away.
Father John visited the wounded.
One soldier was without a leg.
Refuses he to learn to read and write! ' -
So passionately doctor said.

But after all, he knows already everything.
He had to suffer so much! '-
Said father John to soldier tenderly
'He doesn't have to study ' - doctor sat.

John and a child
One evening after a long service
The priest walked along Neva.
And suddenly he sees near water
The baby silently is lying.

'Who are you? - asked him the priest gently, -
Why are you lying here alone? '
'I'm abandoned, passerby, by parents'
My father said to me: ' You're not my son! '

'I don't know the date of birthday,
Nobody ever came to me,
And never I had fun or jolly,
Nobody ever gave me gifts. '

'The Lord loves you so much, my honey! ' -
And the man embraced the boy.
Now I am your father and mother.
I am from Kronstadt father John.

Brother, God sees, how much you suffer.
He died for you long time ago.
And if you die today of hunger -
I'll die with you together, boy.'

' Why don't you leave me, like the others,
Well, after all, you're not my mother. '
'I am Orthodox. I was baptized.
We are all relatives in Christ '

'Oh, father! Oh my Savior dear!
I never will forget ypu, thanks! '
'Don't tell me thank you but -  to Jesus
Christ, who was crucified for us. '

My soul is totally ripped up,
My heart is broken.
But sewed by Saint John of Kronstadt,
By godly light is warmed and softened.

Snow covers quietly asphalt,
But no more I long for summer.
To relics of Saint John I come -
For the first time to greet and thank him.

To JB 69
Once again when I hear you I'm crying.
Waves of light are in your voice.
And the river flows from me much farther
To its home in upper worlds.

With your Muse you'll there remain forever,
Everyone will recognize you then,
Because you have broken off the netting
Of this world and 'I'm poet' said.

A draw-well
Spit into my soul, my friends -
I don't know insults.
How can I cry
After so many Sacraments?

What I would really like
Is to show you this happiness -
After acceptance of His
Infinite love.

Spit into my soul-
And I will embrace you with arms.
Poor - you used
To spit in yourselves, dear.

But it is God who will wipe
It overnight.
How much in my soul you spit -
There water is by miracle cleaner.

You are all shaking and your yellow foliage
Inspires poor poets for their words.
But you are Mine and nobody knows: .
That thousands of times again
I'm ready now to go to the Cross.

Much better - much - than any lover
I'll know you.
Oh Come to Me. Cause I'm in need of you.
I am your Lord. And only I'm - your goal.

And fibrils, nerves and every leaf of yours,
And all that it has once experienced,
Your breath of life, your heating juice, -
All this is I who put in you like reasons.

Among the sisters in a beautiful grove
I know every one of you, I must.
Of anyone I hear the lonely cry.
Oh Russian Birch - the nun of Christ!

With a ballad my heart merges,
Symphony it outgrows,
And becomes the part of virgin
Light, created by Great God.

With a ballad my heart merges,
Symphony it outgrows,
And becomes the part of virgin
Light, created by Great God.

And the unhealed scars of the past
I now confess as my own deadly sins.
And in Communion God them simply heals
By chrism of His forgiving endless love.

In the evening I went back
 Home from your apartment.
 And the wings were growing up -
 I felt so lightly.

 And to learn I was ashamed:
 Me and you are neighbors!
 I will burn for sins with pain,
 Light unget-at-able!

Soul has external losses -
Money and apartments, friends,
inner and outwardly crosses
Wasting of spiritual graece.

God prescribes us bitter pellets,
But they are clarify the soul.
By humility He heals it,
Out of pride us not to drop.

His main task for us is showing:
How small and weak it is
Without Him. And he hides forces,
If in yourself you believe.

When at last we plead to Him, when hopeless:
'Oh my Lord! I'm nothing without you '-
Then Our loving Lord, in Love enormous,
Gives Himself in sacraments, communed.

I leave you specifically, soul,
Want to teach you how weak you are
So that you constantly implored me.
Anywhere you go - and there I am.

And when you feel punishment or sorrow,
Thus I prove only one thing: I - am.
Do you think it differently, though
I'm omnipotent to save you out. '

And the devil tempts us for good reason,
So that we victory acquire.
But we try to get away and miss them
And God-given cross we thrust aside.


You've got an access to all nature's sources,
And by sagacity ambraced it all.
You showed me the music, showed Brodsky,
And infinite repentance in a woe.

For the eternal grudge against the Cross
Repelling of the Holy Love.
For - spears: that You do not exist.
And - We do not believe you - vinegar.

Once in the office we have killed a mouse.
They scrubwoman stroke her by stick for three times.
And suddenly our common hubbub calmed,
And for the mouse all of us felt pity.

And for some reason we all were upset.
And Adult men then laughed at us: She is little.
Her long life doesn't make here any sense.
But silence over her was then terrible.

Athonite Elder blessed Silouan
Scalded a fly by accident on Athon.
And then he cried for three days after that:
I'll never touch the smallest of creation! '

The innocence and chastity of soul-
the suffering of fly it couldn't bear.
And in the eyes of our Great Lord
we also are ridiculous whatever.

Why That, Who we suppose that 'Didn't Love'
Endured for us such pain and endeavour?

Your quick steps - are faster than light swiftness,
Taht's because you're immaterial.
All the matter - at the end of creatures,
After angels of the holy love.

You can only get in touch with holy,
And become communicant with God.
After this life to new world to go
And to be ubiquitous in Love.

Communion of a sound is in music.
In poetry - Communion of a word.
In love it is Communion of the humans.
In kindness - it's Communion of God.

We all love God - the highest of all soothes.
And stretch to Him like to the heaven grass.
It also dreams that sky is close to coppice
And that to love the grass the heaven has.

She always dreams the righteousness kingdom.
Uncountable saints she has believed -
And even if it's mowed by a reaper
That it's  saint love that ordered him to reap.
I recollect a descent to the lake
From mound in my town - as a flight.
It in my soul melancholy awakes.
We for a moment met in paradise.

And every instant - as a gift from God.
He doesn't ask for any gratitude.
But every step is filled with His great Love.
And all my way of life - in Him I'll move.

What You Yourself wanted to hear -
That all you, God, yourself here wrote.
All that you wanted to repair -
You instantly healed in my soul.

I don't need anyone except You,
Not man, nor me - but you, Oh Christ!
Among the poetry and favour
It's only you, who is glorified.

A hungry boy knocked at the door
Of a rich man one blind and snowy night.
The latter snapped: away you go!
And he returned back home to dine.

But at the table suddenly he choked,
And could not pull a bone out of the throat
And for a doctor wanted he to call
But when to telephone he turned -
Christ looked him in the eyes
Repeating him his life.

And in despair boy wept all that night
It seemed to him - he would break down the world.
And he since childhood had distorted spine
And at the Easter he was healed by God!

And rhymes have opened doors to skies for me,
As if to heaven I'm allowed to go.
I'm not on Earth. And it's hard to believe,
That you my dream fulfilled and grace bestowed.
Oh, how we don't want to trust in God!
And elder Moses was a stutterer.
The Father of the Jews was unfertile,
Until the Lord and angels were to come.

What happened to the world if
He those three strangers drove away?
If he just stinted
And did not give them bread?

And What if Abraham was baleful? -
Christ never would  be born into the world!
(Because by flesh He's Abraham's descendant,
Who was ready to kill his own son,

He brought a knife, and he believed: that should be.
God wants to kill - and then to resurrect
So thus he once let strangers and the poor
The Holy Trinity - the world have changed.

Those wanderers returned the son to him.
He begged by his good deeds no less than Christ!
And we are miser, niggardly and mean.
And don't want to be gracious and kind.

The mirror

When there'll become an end to our hardships-
Then we'll be brought to our last exam -
And there will be mirror of Last Judgment.
In front of us - and Christ from other side.

Who will endure not to reverse glance from it -
He will forever stare at Our God.
But who considered Churches unimportant -
On his own will - he'll turn to hell inside.

When for the first time I heard your Tannhauser -
I understood - you are my kin.
It doesn't matter - I'm Russian, and you - German.
I've heard your voice it seemed to me.

My soul your notes was singing.
And they embodied love for me.
And when in white God's presence was revealing -
So much in heart through your notes was revealed.

To me the doors of light are opened now -
It's you who came from icon or in it
I came - our souls touch one another,
Time routed back on front of God like film.

I nothing understand in sanctity -
And all my idols now are broken up-
And only you are standing here - to testify
The turn of loss to bliss of paradise.

It's you who brought me to the Eucharist,
Took the confession of my soul,
I understood - I matter nothing in the list
Of those who live with God alone.
I always remain minor. And astonished
My soul will sing to Our great God
Forever, Sanctus, be Your glory
In the enormous space of Light!

Oh how can I live without You -
You field of Light and feeding people.
For all the centuries they move
Always obedient to Shepherd.

And you accept them all with grace

And embrace
What color is the wood near horizon? -
It's blue - answers a man.
Why is it green when you come closer?
And do we believe ourselves so much?

The eyes of our souls are even blinder.
It's worse than God's eyesight and not the eagle's.
But we still seek to rebuke someone -
His soul is black - but it is white and sinless!

I want to become better after Joseph.
It's such a jolly for the soul!
You are like angel, never bothers
To hear your poems more and more.

My fantasy is with your vilaage-country.
My English- with America of yours.
And you revealed what poets write for:
That poetry is music in the words.

And always when I go - I recite you.
You dominate so much and give me impulse.
My soul is cleansed in poems like in bathroom.
Your confidence is the confidence of sphinxes.

You are so sure in everything you say,
It's hard not to believe that you're from God.
You said that loving people is the aim.
And recollected peasant of Kramskoy.

I had a dream: that I was fusillated.
The demons shot in me with all persistence.
And scarlet roses my soul in red painted.
And body dropped the soul like flower - petals.

And I recalled saint Seraphim from Sarov -
Bending to me, he said in placid stillness:
Before the bliss of next world - I remind you:
All sufferings from here - are just an instant.
You run away from people -
I met you in the heaven.
And on my siege and your deeds
We talked there for nine days.

You answered to Me, that you wanted life,
And it's an endless way to be forgiven.
And useless is in life no minute,
And grief will  all the sins rub out.

To Mandelstamm

Your whole life - for Heaven condemnation.
And  such a dizzy you possessed a Gift.
And from a distance you made fun on Cesar.
And he people like you at dark nights killed.

But force of rhyme may melt the power of evil.
Makes no sense to shoot in Jewish Flamm.
The soul  immortal is in people.
It is impossible to murder  Mandelstam.

From ringing flocks of melodies and trilling
The souls spreads up and flies into  the sky.
And Mandelstam was also not from here.
He also is intangibile like height.

Topic(s) of this poem: poetry

Comments about Selected Translations From Miracle Of St.John by Liza Sud

  • Life Sparkles (11/22/2015 7:39:00 PM)

    beautiful thoughts and words
    and I read MOST of it!
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, November 22, 2015

Poem Edited: Wednesday, May 11, 2016

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