2018.12.08.
In the open field at the valley
In the open field, at the valley,Under the green spruce,
Under the curly green
Catches monk sly.
The monk sits crying tearfully,
Blackroth mourn,
Blackroth mourn,
An angel appeared before him.
An angel appeared before him
Black Russian in white robes,
Black Russian in white vestments.
He became a monk asking:
Because the monk is crying tearfully,
Blackroth you will weep
Chernorizets sob?
How can I not cry, Lord?
Come on, brother, I roam,
See your family
See your family
See, not part.
Go, monk, turn,
Move into your cell,
Move into your cell,
You move, pray to God.
Your gardens have withered
Your flowers faded
You bear it, brother is not annoyed
You tear the gardens away.