Merry Christmas

[Тютчев]

Merry Christmas!

Even the stars has not gone out ...
Fofanov K.

Even those stars are not extinguished,
Another dawn shines ta,
What lit up the world Supervision
Newborn Christ ...

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Then, guided by a star,
Far from grumbling rumors,
Reverent crowd
By Christ flocked Magi ...
Came from the Far East,
Bearing gifts with delight dreams --
And there was of Herod's eye
Saved despotic Christ! ..
Centuries passed ... And He is crucified,
But Sun is still alive
There is, as a herald of truth,
According to our pasture worldly;
There is still ample
Sacred, truth and goodness,
Nor will fight Herod strong
His treacherous sword.

Angel
Ivan Bunin

In the evening hours, the steppe peaceful
When the sunset over it shone,
Among the heavens, the paths of air,
Evening angel flying.
He saw the twilight of sunset, --
Already turned blue in the distance east --

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And suddenly he heard indistinct
In rzhah baby voice.
He walked on, picking the ears,
Weave a wreath and sang in the silence,
And there were in the song sounds of paradise --
Innocent, ethereal soul.
"Bless his younger brother, --
Lord said. - Bless
Babe tiihy sunset
On the way, the truth and love! "
And the angel bright smile
Child quietly blessed
And at sunset radial-fragile
I climbed in the glow of tender krill.
And, like the wings of gold,
Dawn blazed in the sky,
And long eyes young
Watched her in silence!
1891

Eve
Arseny shy

Today the wind from east to west,
And the frozen land of the Manchurian
Start drifting snow, scratch
And ran, disappearing into the mist.

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With this wind, cold and taunting,
As the window starts to knock --
By the Trans-Uralian silver elkam
It would be nice today DEPARTURE.
Above the expanse of Russia's tear,
Breaking blizzard heights,
Above some Vyatka il Gzhatsk,
Above native Moscow shoot.
And on Christmas Eve to listen
Atrial flutter the hearts of the country,
Look to the unruly soul
In its fatal depths.
Rodnikov her foe not vyskreb:
Not in the depths of a swamp and forest
Ignited the first spark
Its hidden until the timing skits,
As in the Tartars, in the years of the deaf,
As in those dark years when
In the smoke of battle conceived Russia,
Pack up your city.
Unsociable it is invisible.
Dark boron closes the ring.
Closes dispassionate schema
Young, thin face.
But now, as before, once,
Do not overpower Russia trouble.
And sunken eyes raised
By the golden star of Bethlehem.

***
Nicholas RUBTSOV

Snow fell - and all forgotten,
What soul was full!
My heart suddenly started beating simpler,
As if I drank wine.
Along the street by a narrow
Net rushing wind
Old beauty
Updated town.

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The snow is flying at the temple of Sofia,
In children, as they do not consider
Snow is flying all over Russia,
Like a good news.
Snow is flying - look and listen!
So, simply and cleverly,
Life sometimes heals the soul ...
Well, all right! And good.

Christmas
Alexander SOLODOVNIKOV

In the nursery is a child.
Mother's gentle face.
They hear the oxen awake
Feeble child cry.
And somewhere in the White Athens
Philosophers among the columns,
There is a dispute about the root causes,
Discuss the new law.

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And the crowds in the theaters of Rome,
That distress the steps,
Applaud tirelessly
Gladiator and elephants.
He will come not in the glare of the thunder
Not in the glory of the victories of the earth,
He sticks will not break
And the voice is quiet.
Not kings call friends
Do not call the princes in council --
From Galilee rybaryami
Forms a New Testament.
No one will pay for flour
In uzilischah not ban
But he, spreading his hands,
In mortal agony to die.
And mighty triumphant ringing
Legions will not falter system.
By bearers, quiet wives,
The winner will dawn.
With incredible power
Extend a hand, one
And collapse pride of Rome
Melt the wisdom of Athens.
In the nursery is a child.
Mother's gentle face.
They hear the oxen awake
Feeble child cry.
1926

Eve
Alexander SOLODOVNIKOV

I got up, a homeless vagrant,
Under Sidewalk lamp
Play your favorite saga --
Song of snow, as of old.

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Quiet music snow,
Secret singing stars ...
I drink to thee, sad bliss,
Heart, raised on the cross.
In sparkling silver fir,
Room in the glow of candles,
Oh, how radiant Eve
In grievous number of nights!
Light Children's dance,
Grandfather - a good joker!
Oh, if terrifying mask
Since it has dropped for a moment!
If life smiled
As mother of gifts!
If deaf lane
Joy could not shine!
If the open doors,
In music, the brilliance in fire
All the expensive loss
Today back to me!
I got up, a homeless bum
Under Sidewalk lamp
Play your favorite saga --
Song of snow, as of old!
December 31, 1934

Light
Ivan Bunin

No voids, no darkness, we are not given:
There is light everywhere, eternal and impersonal ...
 
That midnight. Gloom. Silence of the basilica,
You should look: there is not quite dark
In the bottomless, black arch above you,
There on the wall there is a narrow window,
Far away, barely visible, blind,
Shimmering in a secret temple
Night after night eleven centuries ...

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And around you? Do you feel whether these
Crosses on the slippery stone floors,
The coffins of the saints, pochiyuschih under a bushel,
And the terrible silence of those places
Unspoken performed a miracle
Where black altar cross
Erected their heavy arms,
Where is the mystery of filial crucifix
Himself God the Father invisibly guards?

There is some light, that darkness does not shatter.
 
1927