http://pravtor.i2p/viewtopic.php?p=132423
When the brethren sing at vespers Lord, I have cried unto thee, hear me, the sounds seem to emerge from the depths of the abyss, then with alacrity and like thunder they are torn out from it, strive for the heavens, carrying thither our thoughts and desires, flashing like lightening: then they resound like thunder!.. Here everything should be important and grand. All that is light-hearted and superficial, playful, would here appear to be strange and ugly.