Гавриил Державин — О Ты, пространством бесконечный (Бог)

O Ty, prostranstvom beskonechny,
Zhivy v dvizhenyi veshchestva,
Techenyem vremeni prevechny,
Bez lits, v trekh litsakh bozhestva!
Dukh vsyudu sushchy i yediny,
Komu net mesta i prichiny,
Kogo nikto postich ne mog,
Kto vse soboyu napolnyayet,
Obyemlet, zizhdet, sokhranyayet,
Kogo my nazyvayem: Bog.

Izmerit okean gluboky,
Sochest peski, luchi planet
Khotya i mog by um vysoky, —
Tebe chisla i mery net!
Ne mogut dukhi prosveshchenny,
Ot sveta Tvoyego rozhdenny,
Issledovat sudeb Tvoikh:
Lish mysl k Tebe vznestis derzayet
V tvoyem velichyi ischezayet,
Kak v vechnosti proshedshy mig.

Khaosa bytnost dovremennu
Iz bezdn Ty vechnosti vozzval,
A vechnost, prezhde vek rozhdennu,
V sebe samom Ty osnoval:
Sebya soboyu sostavlyaya,
Soboyu iz sebya siaya,
Ty svet, otkuda svet istek.
Sozdavy vse yedinym slovom,
V tvorenyi prostirayas novom,
Ty byl, Ty yest, Ty budesh vvek!

Ty tsep sushchestv v sebe vmeshchayesh,
Yee soderzhish i zhivish;
Konets s nachalom sopryagayesh
I smertiyu zhivot darish.
Kak iskry syplyutsya, stremyatsya,
Tak solntsy ot Tebya rodyatsya;
Kak v mrazny, yasny den zimoy
Pylinki ineya sverkayut,
Vratyatsya, zyblyutsya, siayut,
Tak zvezdy v bezdnakh pod Toboy.

Svetil vozzhennykh milliony
V neizmerimosti tekut,
Tvoi oni tvoryat zakony,
Luchi zhivotvoryashchi lyut.
No ognenny sii lampady,
Il rdyanykh kristaley gromady,
Il voln zlatykh kipyashchy sonm,
Ili goryashchiye efiry,
Il vkupe vse svetyashchi miry —
Pered Toboy — kak noshch pred dnem.

Kak kaplya, v more opushchenna,
Vsya tverd pered Toboy sia.
No chto mnoy zrimaya vselenna?
I chto pered Toboyu ya?
V vozdushnom okeane onom,
Miry umnozha millionom
Stokrat drugikh mirov, — i to,
Kogda derznu sravnit s Toboyu,
Lish budet tochkoyu odnoyu;
A ya pered Toboy — nichto.

Nichto! — No Ty vo mne siaesh
Velichestvom Tvoikh dobrot;
Vo mne Sebya izobrazhayesh,
Kak solntse v maloy kaple vod.
Nichto! — No zhizn ya oshchushchayu,
Nesytym nekakim letayu
Vsegda parenyem v vysoty;
Tebya dusha moya byt chayet,
Vnikayet, myslit, rassuzhdayet:
Ya yesm — konechno, yest i Ty!

Ty yest! — prirody chin veshchayet,
Glasit moye mne serdtse to,
Menya moy razum uveryayet,
Ty yest — i ya uzh ne nichto!
Chastitsa tseloy ya vselennoy,
Postavlen, mnitsya mne, v pochtennoy
Sredine yestestva ya toy,
Gde konchil tvarey Ty telesnykh,
Gde nachal Ty dukhov nebesnykh
I tsep sushchestv svyazal vsekh mnoy.

Ya svyaz mirov, povsyudu sushchikh,
Ya kraynya stepen veshchestva;
Ya sredotochiye zhivushchikh;
Cherta nachalna Bozhestva;
Ya telom v prakhe istlevayu,
Umom gromam povelevayu,
Ya tsar — ya rab — ya cherv — ya Bog!
No, buduchi ya stol chudesen,
Otkole proisshel? — bezvesten;
A sam soboy ya byt ne mog.

Tvoye sozdanye ya, Sozdatel!
Tvoyey premudrosti ya tvar,
Istochnik zhizni, blag podatel,
Dusha dushi moyey i Tsar!
Tvoyey to pravde nuzhno bylo,
Chtob smertnu bezdnu prekhodilo
Moye bessmertno bytiye;
Chtob dukh moy v smertnost oblachilsya
I chtob chrez smert ya vozvratilsya,
Otets! — v bessmertiye Tvoye.

Neizyasnimy, Nepostizhny!
Ya znayu, chto dushi moyey
Voobrazhenii bessilny
I teni nachertat Tvoyey;
No yesli slavoslovit dolzhno,
To slabym smertnym nevozmozhno
Tebya nichem inym pochtit,
Kak im k Tebe lish vozvyshatsya,
V bezmernoy raznosti teryatsya
I blagodarny slezy lit.

Bog