Farewell to St. Petersburg

Who she is and where she is, 
To the heavens alone is known, 
But my soul is infatuated 
With a beautiful stranger. 

The wind knows who she is, 
The clouds have seen her, 
As above her, from afar, 
They ran with a light shadow. 

The nightingales sing of her, 
The stars brightly sparkle 
With the gaze of her eyes, 
But they do not name her. 

I believe, I know the day will come, 
My heart will be joyfully embarrassed, 
The secret maiden will find it, 
And my dream will come true.

The mist from the mountainous countries fell upon the valleys! 
And covered a row of Palestinian graves. 
The ash of the fathers waits centuries of renewal, 
The day of return will replace night's shadow! 

The light of day will burn, it will shine, 
And organ, and timpani, and pipes, 
And silver, and goodness, and the shrine 
We will bring to our old home, to Palestine!

Oh, my lovely maiden, 
I am happy for your love! 
With your forehead pressed against my chest 
You melt in mute delight. 

So much flame is in your eyes! 
So much bliss is on your lips! 
Your chest quivers, you tremble all over. 
You wordlessly give vows to me. 

The kisses continue without speaking. 
I drink in the delight of your love 
In imperturbable silence… 
But if you betray me? 

Oh, my poor maiden! 
I will be both wild and dark, 
And I will raise a storm of death 
Toward you and your lover!

Blood will steam, a scream will rush forth, 
And I will press against your lips, 
I will tear out the last sound of speech, 
The last glance of your eyes. 

Winged dreams of love, 
Of hope, of happiness - forgive me for all; 
I saw you in a perfidious dream, 
But no - you never will betray me.

For long indeed you have sumptuously 
blossomed as the rose, 
But the spring of your fragile life 
has passed. 

And with the scorching beauty 
of sultry summer 
You sparkle before me, 
magnificently dressed, 
And the glimmer of the evening star 
is wonderful, 
The radiance of your beauty 
is wonderful. 

For long indeed you have sumptuously 
blossomed as the rose, 
But the spring of your fragile life 
has passed. 

The morning star burns brilliantly, 
enticing with fresh beauty. 
No, I will not give you up, 
my wonderful maiden! 
The tender rose has risen, 
it has blossomed with youthful beauty. 
No, I will not give you up, 
my wonderful maiden!

Sleep, my angel, slumber 
Don’t open your bright eyes. 
Hush, hushabye - hush, 
Hush, hushabye - hush. 

If you don’t sleep, then time will fly away, 
And menacing clouds will gather, 
And a horror will awake, 
And the storms of life will boil, 
And a turbulent horror will awake, 
And the storms of life will boil. 
Save and keep 
Him from the storm, Almighty! 

Dispel the clouds of earthly unrest 
With the quiet happiness of autumn. 
Hush, hushabye - hush, 
Hush, hushabye - hush.

Sleep, my angel, slumber 
Don’t open your bright eyes. 
Hush, hushabye - hush, 
Hush, hushabye - hush. 

Hark, on the threshold a noise is heard… 
Enemies have come, they knock on the door… 
Suffering and loss, 
A swarm of frightening visions and bitter thoughts. 
Suffering, sacrifice and loss, 
A swarm of frightening visions and bitter thoughts. 
Save and keep 
Him from the storm, Almighty! 

Dispel the clouds of earthly unrest 
With the quiet happiness of autumn. 
Hush, hushabye - hush, 
Hush, hushabye - hush.

The smoke boils like a pillar, the steamship smokes! 
Multi-coloration, revelry, excitement, expectation, impatience! 
All people enjoy themselves and rejoice. 
And the train races in the clear field faster, quicker than willpower. 

No, a secret thought flies quicker, 
And the heart beats, counting the moments. 
Insidious thoughts appear along the road, 
And you whisper involuntarily: 
How long, how long? 

Neither the air, nor the greenery entices the sufferer. 
Clear eyes burn so brightly there. 
The minutes of rendezvous are so full of bliss, 
The hours of parting are so sweet with hope. 

Halt, my faithful, impetuous steed, 
At the porch of a stranger 
And do not touch the raw earth 
With your silver horseshoe. 

I, like a shadow, will break into the house, 
I will reveal them in bed, 
I will lull them with eternal sleep, 
With a death of calmness. 

And then bring me 
To a high cliff 
And from the cliff 
Throw me from yourself into the deep Genil. 

The Genil makes a noise and awaits the prey 
But the passionate maiden does not guess 
And she kisses the young moor 
And to the young moor she sings:

“Forsake words, my friend, 
What’s the use of vows, of promises? 
From your hot lips I love 
To drink a single kiss. 

Oh, why can’t I take my whole life, 
Sweet one, 
And squeeze the torrent into a kiss, 
Into the flame of a kiss!” 

It came true! Three cedars above a grave 
Cast a shadow upon three moons, 
Three multicolored 
Turbans are dejectedly shaken by the wind. 

All around the plain sadly sleeps, 
Only on the fresh turf of the new grave 
The Andalusian steed, the steed knocks 
With its silver horseshoe.

The blue ones have fallen asleep 
Today, like yesterday. 
Oh, distant waves, 
How long will it be? Until morning? 

In the darkness of night we have 
The excitement of love 
Our eyes drown with tears, 
Fire burns in our blood. 

And the wide oar flourished 
With a splash, 
And the cherished window 
Quietly sung open.

And the sufferer does not give, 
Rest to you, waves; 
Full of hope and desire, 
Love sings all night. 

The blue ones have fallen asleep 
Today, like yesterday.
Oh, distant waves, 
How long will it be? Until morning?

I’m sorry! The ship has waved its sails, 
The horn of my squad calls; 
Either upon a shield, or with a shield 
I will return to you from Palestine. 

Word of my deeds, 
Loudly, will come as my forerunner, 
And a laurel from your tender hands 
My prize and reception will be. 

I swear by my heart and by my sword: 
Either upon a shield or with a shield! 

One hundred battles, one hundred rivers, one hundred cities 
Will learn of your name; 
In one hundred languages one hundred singers 
Will both sing, and play.

And back again, agitating and making noise, 
Full of your great glory, 
The mighty gray waves 
Will hasten me to your feet. 

I swear by my heart and by my sword: 
Either upon a shield or with a shield! 

But if it is the verdict of fate 
To send me into battles, approaching death, 
To the dreadful call of its horn
I will answer with your name. 

I will fall on my shield, dying, so that your monogram 
Will not be passed out by enemies, 
And, defeated by a single fate, 
I will die, blessing you. 

I swear by my heart and by my sword: 
Either upon a shield or with a shield!

Between heaven and earth 
A song emanates forth, 
The stream, sourceless, 
Flows louder, louder. 

The singer of the field is not seen! 
Where he sings so loudly 
Above his sweetheart 
The resonant lark. 

The wind carries his song, 
Although it doesn’t know to whom. 
She, she will understand to whom it’s for, 
From whom it is – she will discover! 

Flow then, my song, 
Song of sweet hope… 
Someone will remember about me 
And will sigh furtively.

Don’t demand songs from the singer, 
When life’s agitations 
Have locked his prophetic lips 
For joy and inspiration. 

And if feelings of a grave dream 
Disturb you with great authority, 
No singing, no! A groan will ring out 
Or a woman’s cry, or barbarous laughter. 

But if, with pride hidden, 
You meet the singer with lively participation, 
And although feigned, although in jest, 
You will illuminate life with hope for him, 

Brighter than lightning, hotter than flame, 
With heavy torrents words will begin to flow; 
Resonant songs, loud songs 
Stronger than thunder will fill the sky.

Soloist
Farewell, dear friends! 
Life will scatter us in all directions; 
All is so, but wherever I may be, 
Yet will I think of you and languish. 

Nowhere are there eternally bright days 
Everywhere there’s anguish, everywhere there’s languor 
And life to my recollection 
Is pages of a worn out album. 

Chorus
You’re right, you’re right, singer, 
Well not completely, well not completely. 
When life is warmed by friendship, 
May God give to you, and to us, and to all many years. 

All
May God give to you, and to us, and to all many years.

Soloist
Revelry with poisoned wine, 
Love with fake flowers, 
Gaiety with a golden yoke 
And flattery with snake-like words… 

Farewell, foolish dreams, 
Dreams without meaning, farewell! 
Seduce another victim of vanity 
With the cunning game! 

Chorus
You’re right, you’re right, singer, 
Well not completely, well not completely. 
When life is warmed by friendship, 
May God give to you, and to us, and to all many years. 

All
May God give to you, and to us, and to all many years.

Soloist
And glory, my former God! 
Take back the laurel crown,
Take it: it is from thorns. 
Down with Your honorary fetters! 

Entwine a blind man in another of them. 
They honored him at a strange banquet 
With guests at the door 
Playing on a scorching lyre for pleasure. 

Chorus
You’re right, you’re right, singer, 
Well not completely, well not completely. 
When life is warmed by friendship, 
May God give to you, and to us, and to all many years. 

All
May God give to you, and to us, and to all many years.

Soloist
There is a devoted family, 
A world of better thoughts and feelings, 
Your circle, good friends, 
That covers the sky in inspiration! 

And I will not cease loving that family, 
I will not exchange it for childish dreams! 
My last song is to that family 
And I will break apart the strings of my lyre. 

Chorus
Hurrah, hurrah, you’re right, 
But don’t break your strings, but don’t break your strings. 
Our life is warmed by friendship. 
Strike upon the strings and resound: many years! 

All
Strike upon the strings and resound: many years!