Нет, бил барабан перед смутным полком
Language: Russian (Русский)
Our translations: ENG ENG FRE
Нет, бил барабан перед смутным полком,
Когда мы вождя хоронили:
То зубы царёвы над мёртвым певцом
Почётную дробь выводили.
Такой уж почёт, что ближайшим друзьям —
Нет места. В изглавьи, в изножьи,
И справа, и слева — ручищи по швам —
Жандармские груди и рожи.
Не диво ли — и на тишайшем из лож
Пребыть поднадзорным мальчишкой?
На что-то, на что-то, на что-то похож
Почёт сей, почётно — да слишком!
Гляди, мол, страна, как, молве вопреки,
Монарх о поэте печётся!
Почётно — почётно — почётно — архи-
почётно, — почётно — до чёрту!
Кого ж это так — точно воры вора
Пристреленного — выносили?
Изменника? Нет. С проходного двора —
Умнейшего мужа России.
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Note on TransliterationsText 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 or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Dann Mitton) , "No, there was a drumbeat", copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Sergey Rybin) , "No, the drum was drumming", copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Non, le tambour bat devant les troupes inquiètes", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: John Versmoren
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 20
Word count: 113
No, the drum was drumming
Language: English  after the Russian (Русский)
No, the drum was drumming in front of a gloomy regiment
When we were burying the leader.
That sound was the teeth of the Tsar
Above the dead poet sounding an honorary drum roll.
Such a huge honour, that even for the closest of friends
There was no space to be found. By the bedhead, at the feet,
To the right and left - hands to the seams -
only chests and mugs of gendarmes.
What a wonder – even upon the quietest of beds
To remain under surveillance like a little boy?
Something, something, something this honour reminds me of,
Honourable – but a little too much!
Look, subjects, how against all rumours,
The Monarch cares about the Poet!
Honourable, honourable, honourable,
Super honourable, honourable – cursedly so!
So whom – like thieves another thief,
Shot with a gun – did they carry out?
A traitor? No. Through the back door -
The cleverest man of all Russia.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Russian (Русский) to English copyright © 2020 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.
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Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2020-09-16
Line count: 20
Word count: 156