Text & Translation
Ne plach', moj drug
Russian source:
Anon.
Ego, uvy, slezami ne vernut’:
Ono ognyam podobno dogorevshim,
Tebya na mig, na kratkii mig sovregshim…
Prosti! Zabud’ o tom, kak schastie nedavno
Tebya svoim kosnulosya luchom,
I vmesto mgly kholodnoi i tumanoi,
Poveyalo vesnoi blagoukhannoi,
Pakhnulo svetom i teplom!
Zabud’, kakim stradan’em i toskoyu
Polna teper‘ izmuchennaya grud‘,
Kakoi prishlos‘ platit‘ tebe tsenoyu
Za schat’ya mig, u zhizni vzyatoi s boyu.
Do not weep, my friend
English translation ©
Philip Ross Bullock
As tears, alas, cannot bring it back:
It is like those fires, long gone out,
That warmed you for just a brief moment…
Forgive me! Forget how happiness so recently
Touched you with its rays,
And instead of cold and foggy gloom,
There came the scent of fragrant spring,
An atmosphere of light and warmth!
Forget your tormented breast,
So full of suffering and sadness,
Forget the price which you have had to pay
For a moment of happiness, cruelly stolen from life.
Ne plach', moj drug
Russian source:
Anon.
Do not weep, my friend
English source:
Philip Ross Bullock
Ne plach’, moi drug, o schast’i otletevshem,
Do not weep, my friend, for vanished happiness,
Ego, uvy, slezami ne vernut’:
As tears, alas, cannot bring it back:
Ono ognyam podobno dogorevshim,
It is like those fires, long gone out,
Tebya na mig, na kratkii mig sovregshim…
That warmed you for just a brief moment…
Prosti! Zabud’ o tom, kak schastie nedavno
Forgive me! Forget how happiness so recently
Tebya svoim kosnulosya luchom,
Touched you with its rays,
I vmesto mgly kholodnoi i tumanoi,
And instead of cold and foggy gloom,
Poveyalo vesnoi blagoukhannoi,
There came the scent of fragrant spring,
Pakhnulo svetom i teplom!
An atmosphere of light and warmth!
Zabud’, kakim stradan’em i toskoyu
Forget your tormented breast,
Polna teper‘ izmuchennaya grud‘,
So full of suffering and sadness,
Kakoi prishlos‘ platit‘ tebe tsenoyu
Forget the price which you have had to pay
Za schat’ya mig, u zhizni vzyatoi s boyu.
For a moment of happiness, cruelly stolen from life.
Composer
Anton Arensky
Anton Arensky was a Russian composer of Romantic classical music, a pianist and a professor of music.