A keresés eredménye oldal 13

Prelude 1 ( I have never heard her voice sound...)

I have never heard her voice sound
And I have never known her name
…She was dressed like a witch - in crepe…
...In her eyes one could see wistful steppe…
When from church stepped on the ground
And trembled - I moaned aflame…
But I have never heard her voice sound,
But I’ve never heard her name.
 

Prelude

Versions: #2
Of Russia, to sing is like towards a temple flying
Across the woodland hills, across the flowers' carpets...
 
Of Russia, to sing is to see in a spring now
Await your bride or to console your mother...
 
Of Russia to sing is like forgetting sorrow
Like loving Love, like feeling you're immortal!
 

Don't Fly Away!

White horses run on blue sea surface,
The waves with white caps frolic wild...
You're slowly coming home in earnest -
Half-grieving and half-laughing child...
 
The smile, resembling pale pink cherry,
Escapes from your lips like a moth...
You're growing torpid, my sea fairy,
Your gaze is close yet distant troth...
 
You see an isle, a distant island,
And silken sails, and gallant prows,
In simple comfort you stay silent,
Lo! Wings spring up from under arms!
 
Don't fly away, accept my languor:
Indulge yourself in love affair...
White horses run on seas in anger,
The waves with white caps do not dare...
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Hailstones

To Dorin-Nikolaev
 
The sky shook from the wrath of thunder,
The lightning blazed and sudden hail
Began to hop in shallow water,
Like silver grapes from fairy tale.
 
The spark of moment flew up higher,
When hot July breathed wintry cold -
For inspiration, new thoughts, fire,
For the impossible, all told...
 
I raised the glass above my shoulder, -
The thoughts were racing to extremes,
I drank the wine while glass grew colder,
As hailstones melted in juice dreams.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

All Of Them Talk About One Thing

To S.V. Rachmaninoff
 
Nightingales in the garden of abbey,
Just like all nightingales on the earth,
Say that just one delight is not shabby,
That the greatest delight is in love...
 
And the flowers of lush abbey meadow
With caress, only flowers can give,
Say there is only one merit they know:
Touching those beloved lips to relive.
 
And the lakes in the tall abbey forest,
Overflowing with blue during flood,
Say: no gaze is more azure, more honest,
Than of those who's in love and beloved.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Ambiguous Silence

The tranquil moon is high and bright.
The early frost is high and clear.
The distant wagons squeak and veer.
It seems to us that we can hear
The silence of Archangelsk night.
 
It can be heard and seen from height:
It holds the sobs of berry mire,
It brings the scrunch of sailcloth wire
And whiteness of calm wings in flight -
The silence of Archangelsk night...
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Romance (Oh, I Know When The Silence Of The Night...)

Oh, I know when the silence of the night
Engulfs the house that sleeps in deep amnesia,
Oh, I know how your soul feels blue and trite
When brutally insulted by rude seizure!..
 
And I have pined away without you!
And I'm in grief! I'm stooped by heavy burden...
Now I will bid my happiness adieu, -
Come back to me: I'm good, I beg your pardon...
 
And you, like standing ship's rope, lacking girth,
Keep thrilling me, but once more you won't come back:
There's nothing earthly in your love to fall back,
For such a love has no place on this Earth!
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

But Don't You Know The Land?..

You know the land exuding wealth aplenty?
Count A.K. Tolstoy
 
...But don't you know the land where huts are squalid,
Where hunger pushes people to grave sins,
Where sorrow's endless, where the faces're stolid,
Where healthy laughter ceased to soar and sing,
Where there're no schools, nor doctors, nor book letters,
But where is wine, and homicides, and... fetters?..
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Droplets

You understand the meaning - don't you? -
Of droplets soaked in sunshine ring? -
That's winter shedding tears, joyful,
While swinging cradle of the spring.
Death won't perplex the winter's snow crew:
To melt away's its plan, its thing...
 
...Crisp moisture sparkles in my eyeballs -
The tears of winter, my soul's gaze.
In drops thrives desperation valor:
To grasp delight of final days.
Death hurries me at sunset colors,
And I keep helping in its chase!
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.