To Music by Tamara Nesterovich

O music, healer of the soulmof inamoment,

I will not disturb your proud enchantment.

You breathe, you are living,  you are alive.

And not a single your  sound can tell a lie.

You are pure as a drop of dew scattered,

In which the whole universe is reflexed.

You are bright, like a clear sunshine slowed,

Which bursts forth from behind the dark clouds.

You are as gentle as the caress of a breeze,

Do the care hand touches your as great surprise;

You are formidable, calling to  fair battle!

And with the dark forces, and with an evil dole.

O music, you are  the wise healer of the soul!

I will not disturb your precious charm at all.