by Modest Petrovich Musorgsky (1839 - 1881)
Translation © by Sergey Rybin

Светик Савишна
Language: Russian (Русский) 
Available translation(s): ENG FRE
Свет мой Савишна, сокол ясненький,
Полюби меня неразумнова,
Приголубь меня горемычнова!
Ой-ли, сокол мой, сокол ясенький,
Светик Савишна, свет Ивановна,
Не побрезгай ты голью голою,
Бесталанною моей долею!
Уродился вишь на смех людям я,
Про забаву да на потехи им!
Кличут: Савишна, скорбным разумом
Величают, слышь, Ваней Божиим,
Светик Савишна, свет Ивановна,
И дают пиньков Ване Божьему,
Кормят чествуют подзатыльником.
А под праздничек как разрядятся,
Уберутся вишь в ленты алые,
Дадут хлебушка Ване скорбному,
Не забыть чтобы Ваню Божьего.
Светик Савишна, ясный сокол мой,
Полюби-ж меня непригожева,
Приголубь меня одинокова!
Как люблю тебя, мочи нет сказать,
Светик Савишна, верь мне, верь не верь,
Свет Ивановна!

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Note on Transliterations


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: "Chère Savichna", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Sergey Rybin) , title 1: "Darling Savishna", copyright © 2015, (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: 24
Word count: 105

Darling Savishna
Language: English  after the Russian (Русский) 
Darling, Savishna, bright dove of mine, 
Fall in love with me, the stupid one, 
Caress me, the unfortunate one!
Oh, dove of mine, pure dove, 
Darling Savishna, sweet Ivanovna, 
Don’t be squeamish with me, a beggar, 
With my poor fortune!
I’ve been born for people to laugh at, 
For their fun and amusement!
They call me, Savishna, a woeful halfwit, 
And greet me as God’s own Vanya, 
Darling Savishna, sweet Ivanovna, 
And they treat God's Vanya with kicks, 
Honour me with cuffs on the nape, 
But on high days as they wear their Sunday best, 
And dress up with scarlet ribbons, 
They’d give some bread to halfwit Vanya, 
So God's Vanya is not forsaken.
Darling Savishna, bright dove of mine, 
Fall in love with me, the ugly one, 
Caress me, the lonely one.
How I love you, I can't put into words, 
Darling Savishna, trust me, if you will, 
Sweet Ivanovna!


  • Translation from Russian (Русский) to English copyright © 2015 by Sergey Rybin, (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.

Based on


This text was added to the website: 2015-10-26
Line count: 24
Word count: 151