, 1994 .., 1996
, Sing to me, my true Raymonda
You are left to me the only
We shall leave the sullen city
Heading westward, heading downward
By the concrete, by the pavement
We shall steal into the autumn
Not the sound your string will utter,
. Nor my heel will make no sound
- If the rooks would cry behind us,
, ; What's in it for us, Raymonda?
H Not for us in still this hour
Bells are tolling on the tower
We are wanderers and pilgrims
By ourselves we are forsaken
, Where our souls are waiting for us
. Only you can tell me ever
All the ancient masterpieces
Of the urban architecture
H - Won't delay us for a minute -
We're departing in a moment
, When the sun rise in the morning
, ? Who will know where you and me are
, I will touch you and your strings shall
. Weep and cry under my fingers
, , Weep and cry, my true Raymonda
, - Cry and weep while we are lonely
- , If there someone is to find us,
. He will hear another music.
Through the woods and through the deserts
, We shall carry out our sorrow
Picking up our luck and hap'ness,
. As the grains of sand, together
{06.96}
Translation (c) Stepan M. Pechkin 1996
Last-modified: Fri, 02 May 1997 13:23:43 GMT