Мой духовный сад

From unfit grass overgrown trails .
My soul sleeps soundly for a long time ,
Not radit it on its way .

Wake up from sleep , look around.
As you sleep , the soul , that in the garden thine ?
Lost interest in you in the spirit of sloth ,
You lost valuables .

No miraculous roses, zeal for God ,
Their ruined frost negligence .
Where , say , your cereal abstinence ?
Where is your fear of God , where the weeping ?

Do not forget you , where the color of humility ,
They took away your wind impatience.
Purity of your sgibli lily
You care about the world is not it?

In the spirit of idleness and neglect
Disappeared into a bright ray of emotion .
Eyes pleading thy look, froze
And tired spirit in poverty iznyl .

My spiritual garden, as you run ,
From unfit grass overgrown trails .
My soul sleeps soundly for a long time ,
Despiseth it on its way .