Хор Успенского Подворья Оптиной Пустыни - Стихира Воеликой Среды - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

"Lord, Liberty in many sins of the woman who has fallen, your felt deity, the Mironine Schemes of Chin, sobbing the world before the burial brings: Alas to me, the verbal, Yako, I have a delicate of the Bluda inhabitant, the gloomy and lawlessness of sin. We use my sources of tears, the clouds produce the sea water. Attaching my rehabilitation with your heartlessness, but I won your neosa's prechings, and the fouls of the Paki of the head of the Muya Vlasus are: I am in paradise Eva, half a day, the noise of the eras of the ears, fear of hiding. Sins of my sets, and the fate of your abyss who will face; Dress is my deasses, so your servant is not despicable, I really have mercy. "