by Aleksei Konstantinovich Tolstoy, Count (1817 - 1875)
Tshchetno on prosit i zhdet ot bezmolvnoj...
Language: Russian (Русский)
Tshchetno on prosit i zhdet ot bezmolvnoj judoli pokoja, Veter pustynnyj ne mozhet nedremljushchej dumy razvejat'. Gody prokhodjat odin za drugim, vse besplodnye gody! Vse tjazheleje nad nim tjagotit rokovoje molchan'e. Tak on odnazhdy sidel u vkhoda peshchery, rukoju Grustnye ochi zakryv i vnutrennim zvukam vnimaja. K skorbnomu tut k nemu podoshel odin chernorizec, Pal na koleni pred nim i skazal: "Pomogi, Ioanne! Brat moj po ploti prestavilsja; bratom on byl po dushe mne! Tjazhkaja gorest' snedajet menja; ja plakat' khotel by - Slezy ne l'jutsja iz glaz, no skipajutsja v gorestnom serdce. Ty zhe mne mozhesh' pomoch'; napishi lish' umil'nuju pesnju, Pesn' pogrebal'nuju milomu bratu, jee chtoby slysha, Mog ja rydat', i toska by moja poluchila oslabu!" Krotko vzgljanul Ioann i pechal'no v otvet jemu molvil: "Ili ne vedajesh' ty, kakim ja svjazan ustavom? Strogoje starec na pesni moi nalozhil zapreshchen'e!" Tot zhe stal paki jego umoljat', govorja: "Ne uznajet Starec o tom nikogda; on otsel' otluchilsja na tri dnja, Brata zh my zavtra khoronim; molju tebja vseju dushoju, Daj uteshenije mne v bespredel'no gor'koj pechali!" Paki zh otkaz poluchiv: "Ioanne! - skazal chernorizec,- Jesli by byl ty telesnym vrachom, a ja ot neduga Tak umiral, kak teper' umiraju ot gorja i skorbi, Ty li by v pomoshchi mne otkazal? I ne dash' li otveta Gospodu bogu o mne, jesli nyne umru bezuteshen?" Tak govorja, kolebal v Damaskine on mjagkoje serdce. Sobstvennoj polon pechali, pevec dal zhalosti mesto; Chernoju tuchej togda na nego nizoshlo vdokhnoven'e, Obrazy mrachnoj javilis' tolpoj, i v vozdukhe zvuki Stali nadgrobnoje merno gasit' nad usopshim rydan'e. Slushal pevec, naklonivshi glavu, to nezrimoje pen'e, Dolgo slushal, i vstal, i, s molitvoj voshedshi v peshcheru, Tam poslushnoj rukoj nachertal, chto jemu prozvuchalo. Tak byl narushen ustav, tak prervano bylo molchan'e. ------------------------------------ Nad vol'noj mysl'ju bogu ne ugodny Nasilije i gnet: Ona, v dushe rozhdennaja svobodno, V okovakh ne umret! Uzheli vpravdu mnil ty, blizorukij, Skovat' svoi mechty? Uzhel' poprat' v sebe zhivye zvuki Nasil'no dumal ty? S Livanskikh gor, gde v vysote lazurnoj Belejet dal'nij sneg, V prostor stepej stremjasja, veter burnyj Uderzhet li svoj beg? I potekut li vspjat' strui potoka, Chto mezhdu skal gremjat? I solnce tam, podnjavshis' ot vostoka, Vernetsja li nazad?
V. Zolotaryov sets stanzas 2-5
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Text Authorship:
- by Aleksei Konstantinovich Tolstoy, Count (1817 - 1875), no title, appears in Иоанн Дамаскин = Ioann Damaskin (John of Damascus), no. 7 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Vasily Andreyevich Zolotaryov (1872 - 1964), "Над вольной мыслью", op. 21a, stanzas 2-5 [ SATB quartet with piano ] [sung text not yet checked]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2021-07-01
Line count: 52
Word count: 365