Θα αρχίσω από το τέλος.
Από τα Τραγούδια και τους Χορούς του Θανάτου, του
Mussorgsky
Τhe Field Marshal - Ερμηνεύει ο
Dmitri Hvorostovsky
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TSBqSM5Rurs&feature=related
Σε ποίηση του
Arseny Golenishchev - Kutuzov
στα Ρωσσικά
Grokhochet bitva, bleshchut broni,
Orud’ ya mednyye revut,
Begut polki, nesutsya koni
I reki krasnyye tekut.
Pylayet polden’, lyudi b’ yutsya!
Sklonilos’ solntze, boi sil’ nei!
Zakat bledneyet, no derutsya
Vragi vsio yarostnei i zlei!
I pala noch’ na pole brani.
Druzhiny v mrake razoshlis’ …
Vsio stikhlo i v nochnom tumane
Stenan’ ya k nebu podnyalis’.
Togda ozarena lunoyu,
Na boyevom svoiom kone,
Kostei sverkaya beliznoyu,
Yavilas’ smert’ i v tishine,
Vnimaya vopli i molitvy
Dovol’ stva gordovo polna,
Kak polkovodetz, mesto bitvy
Krugom ob’ yekhala ona.
Na kholm podnyavshis’ oglyanulas’,
Ostanovilas’, ulybnylas’,
I nad ravninoi boyevoi
Pronessyo golos rokovoi:
“Konchena bitva! Ya vsekh pobedila!
Vse predo mnoi vy smirilis’ boitzy!
Zhizn’ vas possorila, ya pomirila,
Druzhno vstavaite na smotr, mertvetzy!
Marshem torzhestvennym mimo proidite,
Voiska moye ya khochu soschitat’.
V zemlyu potom, svoi kosti slozhite,
Sladko ot zhizni v zemle otdykhat’!
Gody nezrimo proidut za godami,
V lyudyakh ischeznet i pamyat’ o vas.
Ya ne zabudu! I gromko nad vami
Pir budu pravit’ v polunochnyi chas!
Plyaskoi, tyazholoyu, zemlyu syruyu
Ya pritopthu, chtoby sen’ grobovuyu
Kosti pokinut’ vo vek ne mogli,
Chtob nikogda vam ne vstat’ iz zemli!
και στα Αγγλικά
The battle is raging. Armor gleams
And cannon roar,
The soldiers rush onward, the horses stampede
And rivers flow red with blood.
In the glaring midday they fight.
The sun is going down; still they fight.
The twilight fades,
But the warriors still fight fiercely.
Only when night falls
Do the armies separate and retreat.
All is quiet, and in the night fog
The moans of the dying are heard.
And now death
Rides forward,
His white bones glittering
In the moonlight
He listens to the wailing and praying,
And, as a proud commander,
Rides on top of a hill;
Looking over the battle ground,
He smiles with contempt
And proclaims in a loud voice:
“The battle is over,
I defeated you all,
You are all subdued.
You were enemies in life, and I have united you.
Rise now, and march past me
In a triumphal review.
I want to count my armies.
Then lie down.
Bury your bones in the ground.
It will be sweet for you to rest.
Years will pass;
People will forget about you
But I will remember
And celebrate in the midnight hours.
Dancing with heavy steps
I will stamp on the damp ground
Over your graves
So that you will never rise again.
Και για να μην "αδικήσω" το πρώτο από τα τραγούδια, θα το βάλω στο νήμα της ποίησης. :smile: