Songs
Khoroshaja zhizn, 'The good life'
by Dmitri Shostakovich From From Jewish Folk Poetry (1948) Op. 79
Text & Translation
Khoroshaja zhizn, 'The good life'
Russian source:
Anon.
Pesen ne pel ja v gody glukhie.
Ne dlja menja polja rastsvetali,
Ne dlja menja rosinki stekali.
V tesnom podvale, vo t'me syroj
Zhil ja kogda-to, izmuchen nuzhdoj,
I grustnaja pesnja neslas' iz podvala
O gore, o muke moej nebyvaloj.
Kolhoznaja rechka, struis' veselee,
Druz'jam peredaj moj poklon poskoree,
Skazhi, chto v kolhoze teper' moj dom,
Tsvetushee derevo stoit pod oknom.
Teper' dlja menja polja rastsvetajut,
Menja molokom i medom pitajut.
Ja schastliv, a ty rasskazhi moim brat'jam:
Kolhoznym poljam budu pesni slagat' ja!
The good life
English translation ©
Philip Ross Bullock
I never sang songs about the fields so wide.
Not for me did the fields bear their crops,
Not for me did the dewdrops fall.
In a cramped cellar, in the dank gloom,
I used to live, worn out by need,
And a sad song rose from the basement,
A song of grief and of my unparalleled suffering.
Flow merrily, little river, on the collective farm,
Rush to give my greetings to my friends,
Tell them that the collective farm is now my home,
And that a blossoming tree stands by my window.
For me the fields now bear their crops,
I am fed with milk and honey.
I am happy, so tell my brothers:
I will compose songs to the fields of the collective farm!
Khoroshaja zhizn, 'The good life'
Russian source:
Anon.
The good life
English source:
Philip Ross Bullock
O pole prostornom, druz'ja dorogie,
Dear friends, in gloomy bygone years,
Pesen ne pel ja v gody glukhie.
I never sang songs about the fields so wide.
Ne dlja menja polja rastsvetali,
Not for me did the fields bear their crops,
Ne dlja menja rosinki stekali.
Not for me did the dewdrops fall.
V tesnom podvale, vo t'me syroj
In a cramped cellar, in the dank gloom,
Zhil ja kogda-to, izmuchen nuzhdoj,
I used to live, worn out by need,
I grustnaja pesnja neslas' iz podvala
And a sad song rose from the basement,
O gore, o muke moej nebyvaloj.
A song of grief and of my unparalleled suffering.
Kolhoznaja rechka, struis' veselee,
Flow merrily, little river, on the collective farm,
Druz'jam peredaj moj poklon poskoree,
Rush to give my greetings to my friends,
Skazhi, chto v kolhoze teper' moj dom,
Tell them that the collective farm is now my home,
Tsvetushee derevo stoit pod oknom.
And that a blossoming tree stands by my window.
Teper' dlja menja polja rastsvetajut,
For me the fields now bear their crops,
Menja molokom i medom pitajut.
I am fed with milk and honey.
Ja schastliv, a ty rasskazhi moim brat'jam:
I am happy, so tell my brothers:
Kolhoznym poljam budu pesni slagat' ja!
I will compose songs to the fields of the collective farm!
Composer
Dmitri Shostakovich
Dmitri Shostakovich was a Russian composer and pianist. He achieved fame in the Soviet Union, although later developed a more complex and difficult relationship with the government. As a composer, he combined a variety of different musical…
