Book: King Boris

Incurable affliction
My soul. It destroys the body
And I quickly, in spite of the efforts,
Go to the end. In the suffering people
Is weak.

You got a haircut, but the schema hasn't humbled
Your evil spirit.

When you're insulted -
Not swearing to avenge you must!

Who is the thief, unheard of and daring?
Villages run across to him -
Rumor Moscow alarmed - him
We despise not! Dokole will not be able
To call him by his name, he will
Dimitri in the eyes of the crowd! Perhaps eh?

Not right in front of the other
Everyone who lives! The only difference between us:
Who what is wrong. If,
To darkness to make people happy,
I most leprevost made
Than that no good
They have not brought,- who, he or I, the perpetrators are
Before The Lord?

<...> The innocent
Can not be who with the life lead
Always struggle, who at least some purpose
Have set for ourselves, at least some
The desire in his chest is. To the detriment of
Different just desires his
Reach it!

<...> The wide river,
Load from edge to edge
Ships bulk, less bright, eh
The fact that its sources may be
In the swamps far to lie?

My light way, and as the night mist
Is for me experience time.
It was encouraging to me the consciousness of it, but
Even better would my joy,
If from your mouth I heard,
I'm sharing you with me!

I'm strong enough to not be afraid to be merciful.

Afraid of being branded weak the only one who is weak.