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February 26, 2016
I sontsa svet, i nochi t’mu,
I adinokuyu trapinku, pa koyei, nishii, ya idu,
I f pole kazhduyu bylinku,
i v nebe kazhduyu zvezdu!
O, yeslip mok fsju zhizn’ smeshat’ ya,
Fsju dushu vmeste s vami slit’,
O, yeslip mok v mai abyatya
Ya vas, vragi, druzya, i bratya,
I fsju prirodu v mai abyatya zakljuchit’!
Solovej, Op. 60, No. 4
Text: Alexander Pushkin
Solovey moy, soloveyko!
Ptica malaya, lesnaya!
U tebya l’, u maloy pticy,
Nezamennye tri pesni,
U menya li, u molodca,
Tri velikie zaboty!
Kak už pervaya zabota –
Rano molodca ženili;
A vtoraya-to zabota –
Voron kon’ moj pritomilsya;
Kak už tret’ya-to zabota–
Krasnu-devicu so mnoyu
Razlučili zlye lyudi.
Vy kopayte mne mogilu
Vo pole, pole širokom,
V golovach mne posadite
Aly cvetiki-cvetočki,
A v nogach mne provedite
Čistu vodu klyučevuyu.
Proydut mimo krasny devki,
Tak spletut sebe venochki:
Proydut mimo stary lyudi,
Tak vody sebe začerpnut.
Sred’ shumnogo bala, Op. 38, No. 3
Text: Alexei Tolstoy
Sred’ shumnogo bala, sluchajno,
V trevoge mirskoj sujety,
Tebja ja uvidel, no tajna
Tvoji pokryvala cherty.
Lish’ ochi pechal’no gljadeli,
A golos tak divno zvuchal,
Kak zvon otdaljonnoj svireli,
Kak morja bushujushchij val.
Mne stan tvoj ponravilsja tonkij
I ves’ tvoj zadumchivyj vid,
A smekh tvoj, i grustnyj, i zvonkij,
S tekh por v mojom serdce zvuchit.
V chasy odinokije nochi
Ljublju ja, ustalyj, prilech’;
Ja vizhu pechal’nyje ochi,
Ja slyshu veseluju rech’,
I grustno ja, grustno tak zasypaju,
I v grjozakh nevedomykh splju...
The sunlight, and the darkness of the night,
The lonely path I walk, a pauper that I am,
And every blade of grass out in the field,
And every star out there in the sky!
Oh! If only I could hold the world in my embrace,
And join my soul with all the others,
Oh! If only I could hold you all,
The enemies, and friends, and brothers,
And nature! All in my embrace!
The nightingale
Oh, my nightingale, my nightingale!
Little bird of the forest!
Do you not have
Three unchanging songs, little bird?
Do I, a poor young man,
Not have three great cares?
My first care is this:
They made me marry too young.
My second care:
My black steed is worn out.
And my third care:
My maiden fair from me
Has been taken by wicked people.
Dig me a grave
In the broad open field,
At my head plant
Flowers of scarlet.
And at my feet provide
Clean spring water.
Whenever fair maids pass by,
They will weave themselves little crowns of flowers;
Whenever old people pass by,
They will dip themselves up some water.
Amid the din of the ball
Amid the din of the ball
In the anxious bustle of life,
I caught sight of you,
Your face, an enigma.
Only your eyes gazed sadly.
Your divine voice
Sounded like pipes from afar,
Like the dancing waves of the sea.
Your delicate form entranced me,
And your pensiveness,
Your sad yet merry laughter,
Has permeated my heart since then.
And in the lonely hours of the night
When I do lie down to rest;
I see your pensive eyes,
Hear your merry laugh,
And wistfully drifting,
Into mysterious reveries…