Translation by G. Jorissenne , as J. Sergennois

Не ветер, вея с высоты
Language: Russian (Русский) 
Available translation(s): ENG ENG FRE
Не ветер, вея с высоты,
Листов коснулся ночью лунной.
Моей души коснулась ты.
Она тревожна, как листы,
Она, как гусли, многострунна.

Житейский вихрь её терзал
И сокрушительным набегом,
Свистя и воя, струны рвал
И заносил холодным снегом.

Твоя же речь ласкает слух,
Твоё легко прикосновенье,
Как от цветов летящий пух,
Как майской ночи дуновенье.

About the headline (FAQ)

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)

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

  • Also set in French (Français), a translation by Jules Ruelle (1834 - 1892) ; composed by Akhilles Nikolayevich Alferaki.
  • Also set in French (Français), a translation by G. Jorissenne ; composed by Nikolay Vladimirovich Shcherbachev.
  • Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by R. Jurgenson ; composed by Nikolai Nikolayevich Amani.
  • Also set in Italian (Italiano), a translation by S. Gentile ; composed by Nikolai Nikolayevich Amani.

Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "It was not the wind", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Sergey Rybin) , copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Ce n'est pas le vent qui souffle des hauteurs", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 13
Word count: 54

Mélodie
Language: French (Français)  after the Russian (Русский) 
Le vent semblait tantôt baiser
Le bois couvert de nuit bleuâtre,
Mon âme aussi te sent passer,
car elle tremble comme lui.
Mon âme est une lyre frêle !

D'un monde vain elle a pâti ;
Un choc brutal l'a secouée,
Ses pauvres cordes ont cédé
Et l'ouragan l'avait glacée.

Ta voix pourtant ravit les sens,
Et ton léger passage évoque
Les fins duvets, l'oiseau, la fleur,
La brise des nuits printanières.

Authorship

Based on

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


Researcher for this text: Johann Winkler

This text was added to the website: 2020-10-01
Line count: 13
Word count: 72