Текст песни Протоиерей Олег Скобля - Гефсиманский сад

Gethsemane

Above the sand dunes
Burned down the sunset.
You came to the disciples
In the Garden of Gethsemane.
Do not sing in the bird Olivier
Not noisy stream,
As if someone evil lurks
There, among the branches ...

Drops of blood on ubrus
And sobbing mother,
Above the crucified Jesus
Ravens are circling ...
He himself for our will
By the death sentenced
And the cup of Gethsemane
Wicked bitter drink.

You suffer, My God,
Salvation to us,
And flowing sweat blood
By Thy cheeks.
Bowl bitter, holy,
How to drink it?
Crying Angel comforting
Their God ...

Drops of blood on ubrus
And sobbing mother,
Above the crucified Jesus
Ravens are circling ...
He himself for our will
By the death sentenced
And the cup of Gethsemane
Wicked bitter drink.

This envy is destroying the soul -
He knows the righteous.
And you kisses on the lips
Former student.
Jews for punishment
He gave you,
And the people pardoned Barabbas,
And Christ crucified.

Drops of blood on ubrus
And sobbing mother,
Above the crucified Jesus
Ravens are circling ...
He himself for our will
By the death sentenced
And the cup of Gethsemane
Wicked bitter drink.

Above the sand dunes
Burned down the sunset.
You came to the disciples
In the Garden of Gethsemane.
Do not sing in the bird Olivier
Not noisy stream,
As if someone evil lurks
There, among the branches ...

Drops of blood on ubrus
And sobbing mother,
Above the crucified Jesus
Ravens are circling ...
He himself for our will
By the death sentenced
And the cup of Gethsemane
Wicked bitter drink.