Calming the Storm

And in King’s yard he would sew,
A monk of a pure divine light.

Two wondrous fellows so great,
In their hearts grief quickly leaked,
The large feast they kept in a shade,
Those who kept the Fasts truly strict.

Yet, then an unrest at the court
The pagans would rise one by one,
To King in a crowd they broke to behold:
“You answer or your head be gone!”

And King, he was lost in a fright,
Has captured those saints in prison.
He kept them for more than a year inside
And dreamt to break down their will and a reason.

In prison he often would come just to see
And gently he went as he says:
“My friends, you have to be simply like me!
Where Christ in my soul I praise.

This mystery I keep so deep and always,
I hid in my heart with no struggle or worry.
For idols they have, I give them my praise,
And honour them all in a glory.

Listen to the king, my friends!
Olgerd is wishing you only the good,
You’ll have reward and honour at hands,
A sacrifice waits at the idol’s foot.”

They answered then without fear:
You’re fearing no Christ in your heart.
Realize it at last, good King, our dear,
That the Universe has been made by God.

A praise just for him should be said,
Forever and ever with love.
Yet, idols to praise, cold and dead,
Is demons so sly, make them laugh.

And glory in time will collapse,
And body will crumble to dust,
Eternity as a strict judge,
Will make final judgment at last.

In chains, with Christ we all learn,
Dreaming of world of another.
With freedom our spirit burns,
In joy of eternal like brothers.”

The rustle of magnificent oaks,
Like hymns of the winds in reply,
Of wondrous saints it spoke,
They hanged them on oak in a while.

Anthony was name of the one,
Who was the strictest of all in his heart
For glory of Christ, so great he would call,
Became first to appear next to God.

The other, called John, like a fighter
Inherited glory of crown,
Holding a victory up, bright as lightning,
Peace and a happiness our brother has found.

Eustathius, a relative close,
By power of saints surprised,
Baptized and sang to the God,
And all the vile idols despised.

The sinister people were mad,
A court of the vile appeared,
A judgment of truth should be laid,
For Christian people to fear.

“Beloved, courtier, the Kruglet! —
A pagan priest then has exclaimed, —
You’ve lost love of King that you had,
And with awful death yourself claimed.

Lithuanian gods did not follow,
And found the rage in their eyes.
Think twice with your mind so much shallow,
Are you wishful to them sacrifice?

Receive all the love from the court,
We are sorry for you, you can trust.
Repent! – we shall do as foretold,
In our arms we’ll accept you at last.”

“I choose to suffer with Christ,
Than brotherhood next to a demon”, —
The young sage instantly replied, —
“Our Heavenly Father, I’m dreaming,

A love so much sacred will rise,
In exchange for curse of the priests.