Lyrics Тарас Григорович Шевченко - Марія. ч.5

Another year has passed. Around the hut
The goat grazes; and a child
And a little goat
They play in the halls. And the mother
Sits on a ledge near the house
And the wool from the tow is spun.
And here the old man goes
With a chain quietly under the mud:
Wearing a hat in the city
Sell. He has a honeycomb,
And her foolish handkerchief,
He carries it to the posts
Belt good. He died
And he says: - Donya, do not worry.
King Herod is no more.
I ate something in the evening,
But he ate so much that he got fat,
That's what I was told.
Let's go, - he says, - to his grove,
In your little quiet paradise!
Let's go home, baby.
"Let's go," she said and left
Wash shirts on the Nile
On the way to my son. Referred
Goat with a goat near the house,
And Joseph amused his son,
Sitting on the porch while the mother
They washed the little ones on the river
Shirts. And then in the house
He frowned well
On your way. And they starred
Before sunrise, in a bag
Taking on the shoulder, and the child
The two of them carried in a cradle.
Somehow, that's how they came home.
At least no one had to
See this. Grace!
The nut is quiet in the middle of the field,
Their only destiny
That nut! And don't know
Where he fell in love. And the hut,
Everything, everything is plundered. In ruins
They had to spend the night.
In the bright Mary to the well
She rushed quickly. There
Once with her clear-faced
The holy guest met. Weed,
Thistle with nettles
The area around the well was overgrown.
Marie! Woe to you!
Pray, sweetheart, pray!
Shackle your holy power ...
Long-suffering okuy,
Temper in bloody tears! ..
God forbid she drowned a little
In that well. Woe to us
It would be, redeemed slaves!
The child would grow up
Without the Mother, we would not know
And still the truth on earth!
Holy will! I came to my senses
And she smiled hard, hard,
And she cried. Poured
Holy tears in the darkness
And they dried up. And to her, for God's sake,
It was easier.

Elizabeth,
An old widow, in Nazareth
She lived with her little son,
Still with Ivas. And it was
Some kind of relative to them. Early in the morning
Her child, untalented,
She fed and dressed
And she followed her saint
In Nazareth he is a widow
Ask the neighbors, the mercenaries!

The baby grew up,
Ivas, the widower, was playing.
It has grown a lot.
Once they were walking
The two of them found each other on the street
Two sticks and suffered
Home to mothers for firewood.
Ordinary kids! They go
And cheerful, and healthy,
It's nice to see how they go!
So it, little one, took it
Yvasya's second wand is
Ivas was on horseback and [g] was fighting -
She made a cross and carried it
Home, see, show
What he knows how to do.
Maria is still at the gate
She shot the children, and she died,
And the corpse fell as it saw
That gallows cross. "Angry!"
Bad man, dashing!
Taught you, my child,
Do this! Leave it! Leave it! -
And he, small, innocent,
He threw the holy gallows
And he wept, and they spilled
For the first time baby tears
In the womb. God forbid
It seemed easier. Took
In the cold started,
She kissed the weeds in the garden
She fed the cake,
Fresh tortilla. It is
Pampered myself, played
Yes, and spatonki, small, went to bed
She is also on her knees.
So the child sleeps,
Mov yangelyatochko in Paradise.
And on its own
But Mother looks and cries
Quietly; angel is sleeping
So as not to wake him up.
And did not look after. As though
Boiling water drops like fire
It fell on him, and it did
I woke up. Tears quickly
Maria rubbed, laughing,
That he did not see. And heaven
Did not have to fool
Little son. Surprised
And cried.