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Бессонница

Language: Russian (Русский)

Часов однообразный бой,
Томительная ночи повесть.
Язык для всех равно чужой,
И внятный всякому, как совесть.

Кто без тоски внимал из нас,
Среди всемирного молчанья,
Глухие времени стенанья,
Пророчески прощалный глас.

Нам мнится: мир осиротелый
Неотразимый рок настиг.
И мы, в борьбе с природой целой
Покинуты на нас самих.

И наша жизнь стоит пред нами,
Как призрак на краю земли,
И с нашим веком и друзьями
Бледнеет в сумрачной дали.

И новое младое племя
Меж тем на солнце расцвело,
И нас, друзья, и наше время
Давно забвеньем занесло.

Лишь изредка обряд печальный
Свершая в полунощный час,
Металла голос погребальный
Порой оплакивает нас.


Translation(s): FRE

List of language codes

Submitted by Yuri Mitelman

Show a transliteration: Default | DIN | GOST

Note on Transliterations

Authorship


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , title 1: "Insomnie", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.

Last modified: 2017-02-25 18:49:06
Line count: 24
Word count: 102

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Insomnie

Language: French (Français) after the Russian (Русский)

L'horloge frappe les heures de manière monotone,
C'est l'histoire angoissante de la nuit.
Une langue étrangère également pour tous,
Et intelligible à tout le monde comme une conscience.

Qui parmi nous écouterait sans angoisse
Au milieu du monde du silence,
Les gémissements sourds du temps,
La voix prophétique de l'adieu.

Il nous semble que le monde orphelin
Est rattrapé par un destin irrésistible,
Et nous, dans la lutte avec la nature,
Sommes abandonnés à nous-mêmes.

Et notre vie se dresse devant nous,
Comme un fantôme au bord de la terre,
Et notre siècle et nos amis
S'évanouissent dans un morne lointain.

Et la nouvelle jeune génération
A fleuri sous le soleil,
Et nos amis et notre temps
Depuis longtemps l'oubli les a emportés.

Seulement parfois un triste rite
S'accomplit à minuit,
La voix funèbre métallique
Se lamente sur nous.


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Authorship

  • Translation from Russian (Русский) to French (Français) copyright © 2017 by Guy Laffaille, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.

    Contact:

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    (licenses at lieder dot net)



Based on

 

Text added to the website: 2017-02-25.
Last modified: 2017-02-25 04:30:38
Line count: 24
Word count: 139