Русь

Русь  изначальная,
Русь  синеокая,
Русь  снежноликая

Душу  поднимешь  ли?
белой лебёдушкой:

статно - великую
древне - искОнную,
душу глубинную:
в небо высокое.

Ту - что  придавлена,
Но! не затоптана.

Тыщи  раз  ранена,
Криво  заштопана...

но! не надлОмлена!

Беды  и  войны:
тянулись в столетиях
злой вереницею...
и...
обездвИжили...

Страсти  и  вороги
Топь и  болота...

Нитью  златою
Вышить  бы  кружевом
Ткани  судьбы,
Что  истрёпаны
                временем...

Главу   склонённую:
Гордо  ли  выпрямишь?
Грусть  синь-озёрная

в пОру жестокую.

подсоберИсь:
глубже вдохнИ:
чтоб у врат лихолЕтия
плечи расправить
легко, без усИлия
крылья широкие
мощно  раскрыв,
распластать
над просторами.

наша надежда:
Святая Защитница!

милая Родина:
Русь благородная!
сила духОвная!
слАва сокрЫтая!

перевод под фолк-балладу:

Rus (Folk Ballad)

[Intro]
(Solo acoustic guitar fingerpicking, slow and resonant; low drone string sustaining beneath; a single bell tone fading)

[Verse 1]
Rus, the beginning,
Rus, blue of eye,
Rus, snow-white of face,
Lift your soul, will you try?

Rise like a white swan
On a still silver lake,
Bear up the great soul,
The ancient and awake.

Bear up the deep soul
Into the high blue sky,
The one that was pressed down
But never trodden by.

[Pre-Chorus]
A thousand times wounded,
Stitched up crooked and rough,
A thousand times shattered —
But not broken, not enough.

No — not broken, not enough.

[Verse 2]
Sorrows and wars
Stretched through the centuries long,
An evil procession,
A cruel, unending song.
They came and they lingered,
They paralyzed and stilled,
Until the land lay breathless
Upon the frozen field.

Passions and foes,
The swamps and the mire,
The bogs that would swallow
All courage and fire.

[Pre-Chorus]
A thousand times wounded,
Stitched up crooked and rough,
A thousand times shattered —
But not broken, not enough.

No — not broken, not enough.

[Chorus]
Oh, Rus, my Rus,
With a thread of gold to sew
The fabric of fate
That time has worn and torn through.
Oh, Rus, my Rus,
The soul that will not die,
Pressed to the earth
But reaching for the sky.

(Bridge passage: guitar shifts to a steady strum, a low fiddle enters, bowing long sustained notes)

[Verse 3]
The head that is bowed —
Will you lift it, proud and tall?
The grief of blue lakes
In the cruelest time of all.

Gather yourself now,
Breathe deep, breathe slow,
At the gates of the hard years,
Let your courage show.

Square your shoulders, easy,
Without force, without strain,
Spread your wings wide open
Across the boundless plain.

Spread them wide and powerful
Above the land again.

[Chorus]
Oh, Rus, my Rus,
With a thread of gold to sew
The fabric of fate
That time has worn and torn through.
Oh, Rus, my Rus,
The soul that will not die,
Pressed to the earth
But reaching for the sky.

[Final Chorus]
Our hope — the Holy Protectress,
Standing guard above.
Our dear homeland — Rus, the noble,
Hidden strength, silent love.
Spiritual power,
Glory yet unknown,
Rus, the beginning,
Rus, the ancient stone.

Rus — the soul that will not die.
Rus — the soul that will not die.

[Outro]
Rus, blue of eye,
Rus, snow-white of face,
Lift your soul,
Rise like a swan
Into the high blue sky.
Into the high blue sky.

(Fade with fingerpicked guitar slowing, the drone string fading last; a single bell tone)