Text & Translation
Ja li v pole da ne travushka
Russian source:
Ivan Zakharovich Surikov
Ja li v pole ne zelenaja rosla;
Vzjali menja, travushku, skosili,
Na solnyshke v pole issushili.
Okh, ty, gore moje, gorjushko!
Znat' takaja moja doljushka!
Ja li v pole ne kalinushka byla,
Ja li v pole da ne krasnaja rosla;
Vzjali kalinushku, slomali,
Da v zhgutiki menja posvjazali!
Okh, ty, gore moje, gorjushko!
Znat' takaja moja doljushka!
Ja l' u batjushki ne dochen'ka byla,
U rodimoj ne cvetochek ja rosla;
Nevolej menja, bednuju, vzjali,
Da s nemilym, sedym povenchali!
Okh, ty, gore moje, gorjushko!
Znat' takaja moja doljushka!
Was I not a blade of grass in the field?
English translation ©
Philip Ross Bullock
Did I not grow, all green, in the field?
They took me, blade of grass, and cut me down,
They left me out to dry in the field under the sun.
Oh you, oh woe of mine, miserable woe!
Such is my lot in life!
Was I not a guelder rose in the field,
Did I not grow, my berries red, in the field?
They took the rose bush and cut it down
And tied me up in a bunch of twigs!
Oh you, oh woe of mine, miserable woe!
Such is my lot in life!
Was I not my father’s little daughter,
Did I not grow up as my mother’s little flower?
They took me against me will, poor girl,
And married me off to a grey old man I didn’t love!
Oh you, oh woe of mine, miserable woe!
Such is my lot in life!
Ja li v pole da ne travushka
Russian source:
Ivan Zakharovich Surikov
Was I not a blade of grass in the field?
English source:
Philip Ross Bullock
Ja li v pole da ne travushka byla,
Was I not a blade of grass in the field,
Ja li v pole ne zelenaja rosla;
Did I not grow, all green, in the field?
Vzjali menja, travushku, skosili,
They took me, blade of grass, and cut me down,
Na solnyshke v pole issushili.
They left me out to dry in the field under the sun.
Okh, ty, gore moje, gorjushko!
Oh you, oh woe of mine, miserable woe!
Znat' takaja moja doljushka!
Such is my lot in life!
Ja li v pole ne kalinushka byla,
Was I not a guelder rose in the field,
Ja li v pole da ne krasnaja rosla;
Did I not grow, my berries red, in the field?
Vzjali kalinushku, slomali,
They took the rose bush and cut it down
Da v zhgutiki menja posvjazali!
And tied me up in a bunch of twigs!
Okh, ty, gore moje, gorjushko!
Oh you, oh woe of mine, miserable woe!
Znat' takaja moja doljushka!
Such is my lot in life!
Ja l' u batjushki ne dochen'ka byla,
Was I not my father’s little daughter,
U rodimoj ne cvetochek ja rosla;
Did I not grow up as my mother’s little flower?
Nevolej menja, bednuju, vzjali,
They took me against me will, poor girl,
Da s nemilym, sedym povenchali!
And married me off to a grey old man I didn’t love!
Okh, ty, gore moje, gorjushko!
Oh you, oh woe of mine, miserable woe!
Znat' takaja moja doljushka!
Such is my lot in life!
Composer
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky was a Russian composer of the Romantic period. His works are still among the most popular music in the classical repetoire, and he is widely acknowledged as the first Russian composer to make a lasting international…
