Shostakovich, “Песнь о лесах” (The Song of the Forests), op. 81 (1949)

 

 

Shostakovich, “Песнь о лесах” (The Song of the Forests), op. 81 (1949)

 

 

 

 

Когда окончилась война

Kogda Okonchilas Voina (“When the War Ended”)

Kogda okonchilas voina, When the war ended
vzdokhnula radostno strana. the land breathed joyfully,
Nastali solnechniye dni. sunny days began.
Moi drug, tovarishch, My friend, comrade,
posle boya domoi vernulis my s toboyu, we returned home after the battle,
na kartu Rodini vzglyani: consulting the map of our homeland:
tam ot Volgi i do Buga there, from the Volga to the Bug,
i ot sevyera do yuga, and from north to south,
gdye proshli wherever our victorious regiments
pobyedniye polki, had passed,
vstali krasniye flazhki. were placed red flags.
Rodniye stepi i polya, Our native steppes and fields,
mnogostradalnaya zemlya … our long-suffering land.
My zdyes voyevali, here we fought
svobodu svoyu otstoyali, and defended our freedom,
nas k podvigam novim these clear horizons summon us
zovut eti yasniye dali, to new feats of valor,
i, vnov oshchutiv, and our senses, like our broad fields,
kak nashi polya shiroki, coming alive again,
my krasniye s karti we remove the red flags
snimayem flazhki. from our map,
Snimayem krasniye flazhki, we remove the red flags,
voinoyu oplanyonniye, scorched by war,
i stavim noviye flazhki, and in their place we put new flags,
kak tsvyet lesov, zelyoniye. green, the color of the forests.
Ot reki i do reki, From river to river,
ot Volgi i do Buga, from the Volga to the Bug,
proidyot lesnaya polosa The forests spread
ot sevyera do yuga. from north to south.

Оденем Родину в лес

Odyenem Rodinu v Lesa (“We Will Clothe Our Homeland with Forests”)

Zvuchit priziv na vsyu stranu, The call rings out through all the land,
raznosit vyeter golosa the voices are carried by the winds:
obyavim zasukhye voinu, we will declare war on drought,
odyenem rodinu we will clothe our homeland
v lesa! with forests.
Kovaren byl iyulski znoi, The intense heat of July was ominous,
polyam grozili nyebesa. the heavens threatened the fields.
Shtob novi mir So that a new world
dyshal vesnoi, might breathe in spring,
odyenem rodinu we will clothe our homeland
v lesa! with forests.
Svetla, kak pervaya lyubov, Pure and radiant, like first love,
beryozok yunaya krasa. is the youthful beauty of the birches.
Poseyem rozh We will sow rye
pod syen dubov, in the shade of the oaks.
odyenem rodinu We will clothe our homeland
v lesa! with forests!
My zashchitim svoi polya, We will protect our fields,
yavlyaya miru chudesa. and show the world great wonders.
Shtob krugli god So that the earth should bloom
tsvela zemlya, the whole year round,
odyenem rodinu we will clothe our homeland
v lesa! with forests.
Po vsyem stepyam, Over the whole steppe,
vdol russkikh ryek along the banks of the Russian rivers,
proidyot lesnaya polosa. the forest spreads.
Priblizim kommunizma vyek, We are nearing the age of Communism,
odyenem rodinu we will clothe our homeland
v lesa! with forests.

 

Воспоминание о прошлом

 Vospominaniye o Proshlom (“Memories of the Past”)

My nye zabyli We have not forgotten
gorkoi doli the cruel fate
lyubimykh myest zemli svoyei: of our beloved land:
stoit odna beryozka v polye, the birch tree stands alone in the field,
i nyet zashchity u polyei! and the fields have no protection!
Iz pustyni pyeschanoi The cursed wind blows
vyetyer lyetit okayanny, from the sandy wasteland,
iz-za Volgi lyetit sukhovyei. the dry wind blows from the Volga.
Molodiye vzoidut zelenya — The young green shoots are sprouting,
on sozhyot ikh bystryeye ognya … they are consumed quicker than fire …
Podnimayetsya The glorious ears of rye push up
slavnaya rozh — through the earth,
koloski on podryezhet, kak nosh … they are cut down as by a knife …
God urozhaya A good harvest one year,
i god nyedoroda, a poor one the next,
kak vas uznat naperyod? how can you know in advance?
Posle molyebna Despite prayers
i krestnovo khoda and religious processions,
dozhd na Russi nye idyot. no rain falls on Russia.
Yesli uzh vydalsya god nyevyesyoli, In one bad year,
dozhd probezhit storonoi. the rain passes by and misses the land.
Zasukha, sgorbivshis, brodit po syolam Drought stalks the villages
s nishchenskoi rvanoi sumoi. like a stooped, wretched beggar.
Stonut polya The fields languish
na zharye bezotradnoi, in the relentless heat,
znoinomu vetru the tracks are open
otkryty puti. to the burning wind:
Dai nam khot kapelku tyeni prokhladnoi, oh, for a small spot of cool shade, nas, chelovyek, zashchitil! oh, man, protect us!
Kak ty stradala kogdato, how you once suffered,
milaya nasha zemlya! our dear land!
Khlyeba prosili rebyata, The children begged for bread,
vlagi prosili polya … the fields begged for rain.
Dyeti moi rodniye, dyeti moi, My children, my own children,
nye plachtye: do not weep:
vyrastitye bolshimi, you will grow up,
zemlyu pereinachtye! you will alter the land!
Pionyery Sazhayut Lesa (“The Pioneers Plant the Forests”)

Topoli, topoli, The poplars, the poplars,
skoryei iditye vo polye! hurry into the field!
Pionyer vsyem primyer The pioneer, an example to us all,
tam uzhe s rassvyeta! has been there since dawn!
Yaseni, yaseni, Ash trees, ash trees
rodnuyu step ukrasili, have adorned our native steppe,
i beryoz nash kolkhoz and our collective farm
posadil nyemalo. has planted many birch trees.
Zholudi, zholudi, Acorns, acorns,
kak zoloto tyazholiye, heavy as gold,
dubdubok, nash druzhok, little oak tree, our little friend,
vyrastai skoreye! grow quickly!
Yabloni, yabloni, Apple trees, apple trees,
vyrastaitye khrabrymi! grow bravely!
Vas ni lyod nye vozmyot, Neither ice nor hard frost
ni moroz treskuchi! shall harm you!
S klyonami, klyonami, With the maples, the maples,
stoinymi, zelyonymi, slender and green,
nam rasti i tsvesti, grow and blossom for us,
zemlyu ukrashaya, and adorn the land,
nam rasti i tsvesti, grow and blossom for us
slavya urozhai! and celebrate the harvest!

Комсомольцы выходят вперед

 Komsomoitsy Vykhodyat Vperyod (“The Young Communists Go Forth”)

Vstavaitye na podvig, Arise, people of the great Soviet land,
narody velikoi sovyetskoi strany! and do great deeds!
Milostyei zhdat u prirody We must not now wait
lyudi tepyer nye dolzhny. for nature’s bounties.
Schastye vozmyom my svoimi rukami Let us grasp good fortune in our hands, zemlyu rodnuyu let us adorn our native land
ukrasim sadami. with gardens.
My prostiye sovyetskiye lyudi, We are simple Soviet people,
kommunizm nasha slava i chest. Communism is our glory and honor.
Kol narod govorit: As soon as the people say,
“Eto budet!” “This will be,”
my otvetim yemu: “Eto yest!” we reply, “It already is!”
Vyshe znamya! Raise the banner higher,
Vyshe znamya! raise the banner higher!
Komsomolskiye The regiments of Young Communists
vyshli polki, have gone forth
shtob derevyev so that the trees should rise up
zelyonoye plamya podnyalos in a blaze of green
vozlye Volgiryeki. along the River Volga.
Budet nashei pshenitsye ograda The Young Communists’ forests
komsomolskykh lesov polosa will fence round our wheat
ot Kamyshina do Volgograda, from Kamyshin to Volgograd,
i na yug and southwards
do Cherkesska lesa. to the forests of Cherkessk.
Vyshe znamya! Raise the banner higher,
Vyshe znamya! raise the banner higher!
Komsomolskiye The regiments of Young Communists

vyshli polki, have gone forth,
shtob derevyev so that the trees should flourish
zelyonoye plamya rastsvyelo in a blaze of green
vozlye Volgiryeki. along the River Volga.
Slovno armiyu mirnuyu nashu, Just like our peaceful army,
kol deryevya when the trees are lined up,
vsye vystroit v ryad, as if on parade,
to oni shar zemnoi opoyashut, they will encircle the earth,
svetloi vlagoi yevo orosyat. and irrigate it with pure moisture.
Vyshe znamya! Raise the banner higher,
Vyshe znamya! raise the banner higher!
Komsomolskiye The regiments of Young Communists
vyshli polki, have gone forth
shtob derevyev so that the trees should rise up
zelyonoye plamya podnyalos in a blaze of green
vozlye Volgiryeki. along the River Volga.
Ekh, nye trogaitye sad etot divny, Ah, do not disturb this glorious garden.
vy pred nim, Compared to it you are small,
kak pigmyei, maly. like a pigmy.
Krepche vashikh stvolov orudinykh Stronger than the barrels of your guns nashikh yunykh beryozok stvoly. are the trunks of our young birches.
Gorodsoldat, nash geroi lyubimy, Soldier-city, our beloved hero,
gordost i slava zemli rodimoi, pride and glory of our native land,
nyeutomimy, nyepobyedimy, tireless, invincible,
stroisya i slavsya grow and be famous,
nash gorod geroi! our hero-city!
Vyshe znamya! Raise the banner higher,
Vyshe znamya! raise the banner higher!
Slovno orden, Like a military decoration,
listok u drevka! a leaf raised on a staff!
Razlivaisya Overflow your banks
i raduisya s nami, and rejoice with us,
nyeobyatnaya Volgareka. boundless River Volga.

 Будущая прогулка

Budushchaya Progulka (“A Walk in the Future”)

A … Ah …
Solovi poyut schastliviye, The silence is filled with the joyous
oglashaya tishinu, song of the nightingales,
nad polyami nad nivami above the cornfields
slavyat yunost i vesnu. they celebrate youth and the spring.
V stepi lesok zelyony vyros, On the steppe has sprung up
lyubov moya, lyubov moya! a little green wood, my love, my love!
A ranshe nam nye prikhodilos But here in the past,
zdyes slishat we could not hear
penye solovya. the song of the nightingale.
Nashi lyudi bespokoiniye Our tireless people
prevratili zemlyu v sad, have turned the earth into a garden:
v tri ryada deryevya stroiniye, in rows of three, our slender trees
vzyavshis za ruki, stoyat. join hands and stand straight.
I nad shirokimi polyami — And above the broad fields —
maya mechta, tvoya mechta — my dream and yours —
listva zelyonaya nad nami, the green leaves above us,
strany sovyetskoi krasota. the beauty of our Soviet land.

Shir stepyei The transformed wide expanse
preobrazhonnaya — of the steppes —
eto vsyo tvoi trudy. all this is the result of your work.
Pust idut gulyat vlyublyonniye Go out and walk lovingly
v nashi noviye sady. in our new gardens.

 

Слава

Slava (“Glory”)

Na polyakh kolkhozov Planted in squares
vstali pa kvadratam on the fields of the collective farm
stroiniye beryozy, grew the slender birches,
rodiny soldaty, soldiers of our homeland,
nashi klyony i beryozy. our maples and birches.
Polya shirokiye, lesa zelyoniye, The broad fields and green forests,
lesniye polosy — zashchita rodiny. the protective forests of our native land.
Yasen, buk i grab The ash tree and beech,
da iva — ivushka. hornbeam and willow.
Mily krai russki, Our dear Russian land,
stanesh yeshcho krashe, you will become still more beautiful.
krai nash russki, krai nash slavny! Our Russian land, our glorious land!
Nye strashitsya polye The field is not afraid
grozovovo nyebo. of the threatening storm in the sky.
Budet khleba v volyu, We will have bread in plenty,
budut gory khleba. there will be mountains of bread.
Sily nyet na svetye, There is no force on earth
shtoby nas slomila. that can break us.
Otstupayet vetyer pered nashei siloi. The wind abates before our strength.
Polya shirokiye, lesa zelyoniye, The broad fields and green forests,
lesniye polosy, nash russki krai! the tracts of forests, our Russian land!
Slava komandiram Glory to the commanders
bitvy za prirodu, of the battle for nature!
slava brigadiru, slave polyevodu! Glory to the field cultivation teams!
Slava agronomu, Glory to the agriculturalist,
slava sadovodu! glory to the gardener!
Parti nashei slava! Glory to our party!
I vsemu narodu slava! Glory to all the people!
Slava! Glory!
Voskhodit zarya kommunizma! The day of Communism is dawning!
Pravda s nami i schastiye u nas. Truth is with us, and good fortune.
Yesli b nashu svyatuyu otchiznu If only Lenin could see
mog Lenin uvidet seichas! our holy motherland now!
Vedyot nashei Parti geni Our party is led by the genius
nyepreklonnykh i vernykh synov. of loyal and indomitable sons.
My za solntsye, We are for the sun,
za schastye, za mir! for happiness and peace!
My s prirodoi Together with nature,
vstupayem v srazhenya we will march into battle
vo imya qryadushchikh sedov. in the name of our gardens of the future.
Deryevya vstayut velichavo The trees rise up majestically vozlye russkikh torzhestvennykh ryek. beside the solemn Russian rivers. Leninskoi parti slava! Glory to Lenin’s Party!
Slava narodu navek! Glory to the people forever!
Parti mudroi slava! Glory to our wise Party!
Slava! Glory!

About Roger W. Smith

Roger W. Smith is a writer and independent scholar based in New York City. His experience includes freelance writing and editing, business writing, book reviewing, and the teaching of writing and literature as an adjunct professor. Mr. Smith's interests include personal essays and opinion pieces; American and world literature; culture, especially books and reading; current issues that involve social, moral, and philosophical views; and experiences of daily living from a ground level perspective. He hosts separate websites devoted to the authors Theodore Dreiser and Pitirim A. Sorokin and to classical music as well as family history/genealogy.
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