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Moya Tsiganskaya

Song by Vladimir Vysotsky. This song is not a gypsy song but an ode to the gypsies and the tough life that I really like and want to share with you. Enjoy!

Moya Tsiganskaya

V son mne zheltyye ogni
I khriplyu vo sne ya
Povremeni, povremeni
Utro mudreneye
No, i utrom vse ne tak
Net togo vesel’ya
Ili kurish’ na toshchak,
Ili p’yesh’ s pokhmel’ya

Ekh, raz, da yeshche raz
da yeshche mnogo-mnogo mnogo raz.

V kabakakh zelenyy shtof
I belyye salfetki
Ray dlya nishchikh i shutov
Mne zh kak ptitse v kletke
V tserkvi smrad i polumrak
D’yaki kuryat ladan,
Net, i v tserkvi vse ne tak
Vse ne tak kak nado

Ekh, raz, da yeshche raz
da yeshche mnogo-mnogo mnogo raz.

YA — na goru vpopykhakh,
Chtob chego ne vyshlo.
A na gore stoit ol’kha,
A pod goroyu — vishnya.
Khot’ by sklon uvit’ plyushchom —
Mne b i to otrada.
Ekh! Khot’ by chto-nibud’ yeshcho…
Vso ne tak, kak nado!

Ekh, raz, da yeshche raz
da yeshche mnogo-mnogo mnogo raz.

YA togda — po polyu vdol’ reki:
Sveta — t’ma, net Boga!
A v chistom pole — vasil’ki,
I dal’nyaya doroga.
Vdol’ dorogi — les gustoy
S babami-yagami,
A v kontse dorogi toy —
Plakha s toporami.

Ekh, raz, da yeshche raz
da yeshche mnogo-mnogo mnogo raz.

Gde-to koni plyashut v takt,
Nekhotya i plavno.
Vdol’… vdol’ dorogi vso ne tak,
A v kontse — podavno.
I ni tserkov’, i ni kabak —
Nichego ne svyato!
Net, rebyata, vso ne tak!
Vso ne tak, rebyata…

Ekh, raz, da yeshche raz
da yeshche mnogo-mnogo mnogo raz.

Translation:
In my dream – yellow lights,
wheezing in my sleep;
a while longer, a whole longer,
In the morning I’ll be fine!

But in the morning everything’s wrong,
The joy is gone;
Either you smoke on an empty stomach,
Or you quench a hangover.

Hey one, yes
once again;
Hey one, yes
many-many more times…

In the bars; green tablecloths
And white napkins.
Heaven for the poor and slobs,
But for me – like a bird in a cage!

In the church; stench and gloom,
Preachers burning incense.
No! Even in church everything’s wrong,
Not as it should be.

To the mountain I rush,
So that something there might be,
On the mountain stands an alder,
While below a cherry tree;
If only there were ivy on the slope;
I’d get some joy from it,
If only anything else;
It’s not as it should be.

Hey one, yes
once again;
Hey one, yes
many-many more times…

Then to the field I go,
along the river bank;
Some light, some darkness – but no God!
While in the pure field;
there are cornflowers and a distant road.
Along the road there’s a deep forest
With Baba-Yaga witches;
And at the road’s end;
Chopping blocks and axes.

Somewhere the stallions dance in tune,
Unhurried and easy.
Along the road everything is wrong,
But at the end; completely.

Neither in church nor the in the bar-
Nothing is held holy!
No, my friends; everything’s wrong,
Everything’s wrong, my friends!

Hey one, yes
once again;
Hey one, yes
many-many more times…

Konfetochki Baranochki

Traditional russian gypsy song.

Moskva zlatoglavnaia Zvon kolokolov
Tsarpushka dershav naia A romat pirogov

Konfetki baranochki Slovno lebedi sanochki
Ekh vy koni zaletnye Slyshna pesn’ sobluchka
Gimnazistki rumianye ot moroza chut’
Pianye gratsino sbi vaiut Rykhlyi sneg s kab luchka

Pomniu troika udaluiu Vspyshki dal’nikh zamits
Tvoiu pozu ustaluiu Trepet dlinnykh resnits

Vsyo proshlo, vyso umchalosia V nevosvratnuiu dal’
Nichevo ne ostalosia Lish’ toska ne pechal

Konfetki baranochki Slovno lebedi sanochki
Ekh vy koni zaletnye Slyshna pesn’ sobluchka
Gimnazistki rumianye ot moroza chut’
Pianye gratsino sbi vaiut Rykhlyi sneg s kab luchka

Translation:

Moscow with its Golden donmes, the sound of its bells
The mighty Tsar cannon gleams and the bakery’s smells

Sweet candies and tasty rolls and the sleds look just like white swans
Oh your horses go flying by and the coachman’s song rings
Oh your rosie cheeks high school girls almost drunk from the frost air
How you gracefuly brush away the loose snow from your heels
Oh the troika I can’t forget,

Lightning flashing afar
When fatigue overwhelmed you, dear,
Trembling eyelashes there

All is past, all has blown away
Nevermore to return
There is nothing that’s left behind
Only sadness and woe

V Chas Rokovoy

Song by Leonsia Erdenko. “‘V chas rokovoy’ means “In the fateful hour”. This old Russian romance written by an unknown author in 19th centurie’s Russian language, “noble style”, is about love, and “the fateful hour” is when he met her, and he remember this hour, and make compliments to her and so on”. Alexander Abashev

«V chas rokovoj»

V chas rokovoj, kogda vstretil tebya,
Trepetno serdce zabilos vo mne.
Strastno, bezumno tebya polyubya,
Ves ya goryu, kak v ogne.
Skolko schastya, skolko muki
Ty, lyubov, nesesh s soboj!
Chas svidanya, chas razluki, –
Dyshit vsyo toboj odnoj.

Snyatsya mne milye glazki tvoi,
Chudnyj tvoj stan, tvoya krasota.
Vsya sozdana ty dlya znojnoj lyubvi,
Vsya ty lyubov, vsya – mechta.
Skolko schastya, skolko muki
Ty, lyubov, nesesh s soboj!
Chas svidanya, chas razluki, –
Dyshit vsyo toboj odnoj.

«В час роковой»

В час роковой, когда встретил тебя,
Трепетно сердце забилось во мне.
Страстно, безумно тебя полюбя,
Весь я горю, как в огне.
Сколько счастья, сколько муки
Ты, любовь, несешь с собой!
Час свиданья, час разлуки, –
Дышит всё тобой одной.

Снятся мне милые глазки твои,
Чудный твой стан, твоя красота.
Вся создана ты для знойной любви,
Вся ты любовь, вся – мечта.
Сколько счастья, сколько муки
Ты, любовь, несешь с собой!
Час свиданья, час разлуки, –
Дышит всё тобой одной.

  • Lyrics provided by Alexander Abashev

Les deux guitares

Tradicional russian gypsy song performed by Les Yeux Noirs

Les deux guitares
Dve gitari zazvenev
Jalobno zanily
S detstva pamjatnij motiv,
Drug ljubimiy, ti ly?

eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz,
Eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz!

Vot tam zvezda odna gorit
Tak jarko i muchitel’no
Luchami serdtse shevelyt,
Draznja evo jazvitel’no

eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz,
Eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz!

I ot zari, I do zari
Toskuju, muchus’, set’ju.
Dai, boje, mne dogovorit’
Tu pesnju nedopetuju…

eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz,
Eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz!

V polet veter, ogon’ky,
Da dal’naja doroga.
Noet serdtse ot toski,
A na dushe trevoga.

eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz,
Eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz!

V pole maki, da vasil’ki.
Vse oni mne ljubi.
Vasil’ki- glaza ee,
A maki- ee gubi.

eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz,
Eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz!

Chto ti noesh, da bolish,
Retivo serdechko,
Ja uvidel u nee
Da na ruke kolechko

eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz,
Eh, raz, eshe raz,
Eshe mnogo mnogo raz!

 

  • Lyrics probided by Pauline Bertrand

*Note: the video song it’s not the same version, I’m trying to find the same lyrics, but at list some of them are the same. My apologies.

Dorogoy Dlinnoyu (Those where the days)

The title of this traditional russian song which russian gypsies consider theyrs, means “all along a long path”. Written by Boris Fomin (1900-1948) with words by the poet Konstantin Podrevskii, this song became famous thanks to its appearence in The Brothers Karamazov’ (1958) performed by Maria Schell. Here performed by Alexander Menshikov.

Dorogoy Dlinnoyu
Yehali na troyke s bubentsami,
A vdali mel’kali ogon’ki.
Mne b seichas, sokoliki, za vami,
Dushu bi razveyat’ ot toski.

Dorogoy dlinnoyu, da noch’yu lunnoyu,
Da s pesney toy, chto vdal’ letit, zvenya,
I s toy starinnoyu, toy semistrunnoyu.
Chto po nocham tak muchila menya…

Tak zhiv’a bez radosti, bez muki
Pomnyu ya ushedshiye goda
I tvoi serebryanie ruki
V troyke, uletevshey navsegda…

Dorogoy dlinnoyu, da noch’yu lunnoyu,
Da s pesney toy, chto vdal’ letit, zvenya,
I s toy starinnoyu, toy semistrunnoyu.
Chto po nocham tak muchila menya…

Dni begut, pechali umnozhaya,
Mne tak trudno proshloe zabit’.
Kak-nibud’ odnazhdi, dorogaya,
Vi menya svezete horonit’.

Dorogoy dlinnoyu, da noch’yu lunnoyu,
Da s pesney toy, chto vdal’ letit, zvenya,
I s toy starinnoyu, toy semistrunnoyu.
Chto po nocham tak muchila menya…

The long road (Translation)
They were riding in a troika with bells,
and in the distance there were glimmering lights.
I’d rather go now with you, my dears,
I’d rather distract my soul from the yearning.

[Chorus]
Along a long road, and on a moonlit night,
And with that song that flies away with jingle-jangle,
And with that ancient, seven-stringed one (guitar)
That tortured me so much at nights…

Living this way, without joy, without torture,
I do remember the past years
and your silvery hands
in a troika that flew away forever….

But it turns out our song was futile,
In vain we burned night in and night out.
If we have finished with the old,
Then those nights have also left us!

The days run on, multiplying the sorrows,
it is so hard for me to forget the past.
Some day, my dear,
you shall take me to bury (dead hero to the cemetery)

Out into our native land, and by new paths,
We have been fated to go now!
…You rode on a troika with sleigh bells,
[But] you’ve long since passed by!

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