Полина Терентьева, Варвара Котова - В древние-древние годы
текст песни

In the ancient-ancient years,
The street of the Evil village
The Most Holy Virgin Mary
The stranger of the poor wandered.
The evening began frosty,
The blizzard was spinning a backbag
I knocked my hand with a timid
Virgin under each window.
She asked the shelter
On an inclement cold night.
Everywhere they mercilessly drove
The wanderer Poor away.
The Mother of God cried,
I cried not about myself
But about those who did not give a shelter
About their fate.
My God, have mercy on your son,
The heart is softened by slaves.
Evil and cruel
Give the repentance of the cover.
The first to hear those tears
From the mountain heights of being
Ancient Prophet Thunderer,
The anger of the punisher Ilya.
It struck an unexpected thunder
In a fierce blizzard, in the cold
The screams of unnecessary screams
The wind brought to the Virgin.
Sees: the wings are glowing
The suffering people rushing rushing.
They ask for the intercessor of the world
True, sob the name.
Pity lit in her heart:
God, forgive them all evil!
I turned my cover from my shoulders
And all of them covered the village.
By mercy not mentioned
The Prophet Elijah softened,
Holy Mother, saved them
Your marvelous mercy.
From year to year on night
By morning from the throne of the worlds
Rus' still covers
Virgo of the Most Holy cover.