Фантазия
Language: Russian (Русский)
Available translation(s): ENG
Стой, мой верный, бурный конь,
у крыльца чужого,
и земли сырой не тронь
сребряной подковой.
Я, как тен, проникну в дом,
ложе их открою,
усыплю их вечным сном,
смертью успокою.
Вот тогда неси меня
на утёс высокый,
и с утёса и с себя
брось в Хенил глубокий.
Хенил шумит и жертвы ждёт,
но дева горя не гадает,
и мавра юного лобзает
и мавру юному поёт:
,,Брось, мой друг, слова, к чему
клятвы, обещанья?
С жарких уст твоих люблю
пить одни лобзанья.
О, зачем всю жизнь мою,
милый, не могу я
сжать в лобзания струю,
в пламя поцелуя!``
Сбылось!... Три кедра над могилой
бросают тень на три луны;
три разноцветные чалмы
качает ветр уныло.
Кругом равнина грустно спит,
лишь в свежый дёрн могилы новой
конь андалузкый, кон стучит
серебряной подковой.
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Note on TransliterationsAuthorship:
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 (Jacob Wilde) , "Fantasia", copyright © 2023, (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: 32
Word count: 129
Fantasia
Language: English  after the Russian (Русский)
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.
Authorship:
- Translation from Russian (Русский) to English copyright © 2023 by Jacob Wilde, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2023-08-25
Line count: 32
Word count: 191