Псалтирь - Псалом 44 - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Overgun my heart is the word good, the verb of the Az business is my prince: my tongue is my cane of a scribblet. Krasnoye the goodness of the Sons of Human, the vicious grace in the sorts of yours, of course, God for God bless. Pregnant your sword your thigh, stronger. Your beauty and goodness is yours, and on the floor, and have time, and the reign of truth for both meekness, and truth, and instruct the land of yours. Your arrows are sophisticated, stronger, people under you will fall into the hearts of the enemy of Tsareva. The throne is yours, God, in the age of century: the rod of the rule, the rod of your kingdoms. Having loved the truth and hanged by the lawlessness, this is for the sake of the aisle, God, God is your bare joy, Page Your Partner. Smyrna and the Stratsky and Cassia from your riza, from the gravity of elephants, of Nhee, we are exhaled. Dashing the kings in your honor, the Queen is on holiday, in the riza of the old clothes are checked. I hear, deck, and everyone, and your ear your ear, and forget your people, and your father's house. And the king of kindness is being placed: there is a lord of yours and bowed to him. And the delicacy of Torov from the gift, the face of yours will pour the richness of Ludssia. All the glory of the Tsareva District inside, crooks are robber and is upheld. The king of the Virgin in the next, sincere, will be given to you. Will be in merry and delight, they will be introduced into the Tsarev Temple. Instead of your father's father's sons: Put the princes along the whole earth. Rather your name in every kind and childbirth. This is for the sake of people confess to the century and century and century.