Горшечник. Светлана Теребилина. Читает автор

#PoetrybySvetlanaTerebilina Music: Khvorostinin's Gospels Video: Pavel Terebilin (Jr.) Potter Does the potter not have power Over his clay? Over each one who comes into this world, He bows quickly That Master of the universe, That Author of existence. For by His will Here is the clay—you and I. And with a bold Hand He takes that clay. Oh, what is this, Any of us will understand! So painful, so scary, so shameful! A lump of clay tossed back and forth! And nothing is visible! But the Master knows his craft. He kneads the clay, To mold a vessel. With his daughter and son He begins his work. And places the plain material on the wheel. It's become even more difficult! It would have been better if He had crumpled! Falls and rises... Question... Another question... The work is done with soul. Christ is at work. The Master smoothes the uneven edges, With special compassion, Without concealing his excitement, So that the form reflects That author's sketch. Everything spins and twirls... And fingers up and down Sliding over the wet mass, Pressing painfully where necessary. But the vessel He made will be so beautiful! Special! Distinct From all that already exists. And to merge with this parable It is an honor for us both! Bless the Palms That mold us. Unrepeatable is the fate By the grace of the saint For every pitcher, Pot, and flowerbed. And there's a reason for everything... Perhaps That Hand In this life, only once Will pour you water, And you will help save a traveler from thirst. God has vessels For every need. For some, it's very difficult To be a visible vase... And for this dear mug Sometimes it's hard: For children, it's like a toy. There's often milk in it. It's dropped on the floor, And its life is short. Daddy comes home from work: Two shards in the bucket. But how much that mug gave Every day! It comforted children In illness and need. And many vessels, Standing in cracks, Hold a special miracle Within themselves. And they remember that beginning, And those Hands remember, That terrible swirl... And thoughts in the darkness... In happiness and in misfortune, It sounds to them like a hymn: "Thank you, Good Master, That I was made this way!.." Svetlana Terebilina