Songs

Uzh ty, niva moja, nivushka,
Oh you, my field, dearest field of mine,
Ne skosit' tebja s makhu jedinogo,
You are not to be mowed at a single stroke,
Ne svjazat' tebja vsju vo jedinyj snop!
You are not to be bound up in a single sheaf!
Uzh vy, dumy moi, dumushki,
Oh you, my thoughts, dearest thoughts of mine,
Ne strjakhnut' vas razom s plech doloj,
You are not to be shaken off with just one shrug,
Odnoj rech'ju-to vas ne vyskazat'!
You are not to be expressed in just one telling!
Po tebe-l', niva, veter razgulival,
You, oh field, have you not been battered by the wind,
Gnul kolos'ja tvoi do-zemli,
Which forced your ears of grain down to the ground,
Zrely zerna-vse razmetyval!
And scattered your ripe grain in all directions!
Shiroko vy, dumy, porassypalis',
Wherever a thought should fall,
Kuda pala kakaja dumushka.
There a sorrowful blade of grass would sprout,
Tam vskhodila ljuta pechal'-trava,
Breeding the bitterest misery.
Vyrostalo gore gorjucheje.