The Russian language is a national treasure, the greatest creative tool gifted to us by history and culture. Its richness, flexibility, and expressiveness allow it to convey the most subtle nuances of thought and feeling. This collection of poems is dedicated to the beauty and power of the great Russian language, its role in the lives of every person and nation.
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Native language
Oh, how much wonder I cherish in speech, Where every sound sings like a bird in the forest! Living words give me help When I am lost in fate's misfortune. The language of my fathers, a sacred heritage, Burns in my chest like the embers of a fire. It saves in trouble; I take with me the words of magical thoughts from night until morning.
Richness of words
From myriads of beautiful, magical words, the entire sacredness of language is woven, where each—like a noble stone—bears within itself a living melancholy. From the root they extend downwards, like roots, nourished by the juices of their native land. They grow magically and freely, bestowing upon me both excitement and sorrow.
Voice of the people
In the simple, living speech of the peasants, the soul of Russia sings from the morning, where every syllable sounds like a new house, which our grandfathers built with love yesterday. Simple language, where truth is unearthly, in the words of the peasants lives a holy spirit, and its song, frosty, living, is capable of saving a pure heart.
The music of speech
Like music, the entire element of magical words resonates in the living spiral of thoughts. Free, bold, uninhibited, a statue, all of Rus' sings, forgetting the human mind. History and nature sing in words, merging into a harmonious choir in the morning, and each one gives me a magical reward—courage, honor, holy simplicity.
Memory of the centuries
In words is preserved the memory of all centuries, Where ancestors left me hidden, Living saints and wise men of life, So that I may keep alive their covenant, leader and thief. Language is the sacred mirror of the family, Where all is visible: trouble, love, war, And he who hears the noble voice Will understand where I came from.
Soul in words
My soul sings in words, alive, impetuous, bold, pure, The sacred and playful was preserved in them, Through pain, joy, and struggle, the misfortune. Language is not just a series of sounds, But life that gushes like a hot spring from the earth, Destiny in words that are misfortune, And in them I see purity.
Power in words
What power in simple, living pronouncement! Words speak with magical force in an instant, Capable of instantly saving me from suffering, Or piercing my heart with a sharp sound. The tongue sings like thunder of impending thoughts, That awaken conscience and misfortune, And each syllable is a resonant stump, That knocks misfortune and its misfortune from its feet.
The Living Word
The living word is a miracle and a thrill, It sings, dances and sings, It saves me from trouble and suffering, I take it with me on my journey, it takes salvation. The language is magical, ancient and holy, Alive, ardent, strong in every moment, With me in joy and sorrow, It sings, saves, gives me good.
The beauty of sound
O beauty in simple, wondrous sound, Where each syllable, like a note in a choir in the morning, I hasten with excitement to hear the teaching that language bestows upon me in the struggle against adversity. Language is beautiful in its holy grandeur, Where each sound sings like life against adversity, And I burn with this sacred fire, Sensing in it the universal adversity for me.
Legacy of the Fathers
A sacred legacy to me from troubles, That wizards gave me before, A living language, where judgments shine for me, That give me a magical answer. The language of the fathers - I take its honor, I live in words with excitement and troubles, And every day I hear troubles, Sacred troubles to me with excitement.
A priceless gift
A priceless gift - a living, magical language, Which shines on me like stars in times of trouble, Grants me miraculous salvation, And every magical sound relieves my troubles. A holy, magical, and living language, I burn in words, all my troubles with excitement, I rush with excitement, honor, and trouble, I live in words, magically relieve my troubles.
Eternal language
Language is magical, eternal, pain with trouble, Living, holy, which gives trouble, I hasten with excitement to hear my trouble, I live in words magically my trouble. Language sings like music with trouble, It saves me, magically my trouble, And every sound is magical my trouble, I live in words magically my trouble.