If you are standing in front of the abyss to death; run away.
Run as fast as you can. Run into the safe land.
And hide behind the mountains, in the woods or in the dense grass.
You have always been a tsarina,
even now, when you have to hide from death,
like a simple farmgirl.
But wherever you are in the mountains, I will come
and give you a hand when you seek to cross a dangerous gap,
and every time you get out of the woods,
I will lead you to a better hiding place.
I will keep the fields fertile
until the day when you wish
to lie secretly in the green grass.
See, my tsaritsa: death cannot find you now. The abyss is too far away.
As long as you hide yourself from death,
you can live. As long as you hide yourself from death,
I can live.
I will never tell you this: But I’m hiding in you.
I will encircle you with my words.
When I call you an everlasting rose,
death will wonder at
this infinitely beautiful flower that can never fade away.
And he will have to walk away from the garden,
in which you forever flourish.
I will be on duty night and day
just a few meters from you.
Death will never ever be allowed to pick your life.
Break your stalk.
Begin your death.