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M o l and m and
St. Francis of Assisi

                              
Spare me
Deliver me from the sight of the empty cup edge
              in which there is a coin thy mercy
Now now,
When the circle of falling darken
Rags tangible on the brightness of banners
Instantaneous shrinking of age
Perhaps this is the best moment of perfect
Would I have seen unblinking
Your glory flower puddle
And the pond and creek road nezabudok
Stream
Now, the chain rattles unwinding
Striker-Stargazer
And these here
Around they are afraid and trembling as if waiting for the news
Now the hour of the lips are silent
It must be completely silent hour compressed lips
Would my air
I could melt the wax flowers among golden
I have sailed with them
Above the stars buzzing Sailing
And long heavy rain poured down their honey
These sticky fields
Then the land would become a cup at arm's length
But you - he put some money to burn in
close circle?
Which fish tossed to the poor in this oil for the agony?
You it is You
But as You gave us an escape saint
          wood bridge close to the shore of Thy?
There he was taken and cut dry
Here, I deliver.
 (Henri Volkhonsky)