R.Rozhdestvensky, The Moments - Song -Translation (Rus.)

The song about the moments (instants)
One of the best songs about life
http: //www.100pesen.ru/index/mgnovenija/0-46

By Robert Rozhdestvensky

The song is from Soviet film
'The seventeen moments of spring'
Producer Tatiana Lioznova
http: //serialonline.tv/russian/313-17-mgnovenij-vesny.html

Music by Mikael Tariverdiev
The singer is Iosif Kobson
http: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=Xkew5pkDe7A

Don't think about seconds from your height-
The time will come, and you'll accept that certainly:
They whistle as the bullets nearby...
The moments,
The moments,
The moments...

The moments are pressed into the years.
The moments are pressed into the centuries.
And I am unaware of the real:
Was it the first or was it the second blink.

And every blink has th' reasonable base.
The bells-which toll.
The signs-being drawn, etcetera...
And moments will then to u present:
The glory or the shame - or immortality!

From tiny moments - the rain consists.
The usual water downfalls from heaven...
And you are waiting half of life, at least,
When moment will come, only your's ever...

And it will come -
As one and a great drink
Of water in the heat of summer day sometimes...
In common, you must know your appeal
From first and to the last day of your real life...
I have seen the translation with word The instants
by Alec Vagapov

http: //www.eng-rus.ru/mini/robert-rozhdestvensky-in-english/167-the-instants

by Lyudmila Purgina

Comments (6)

- - - - - there should be no point in rating the work of a genius as it were a ludicrous diversion.. but there are people, here, that enjoy themselves a lot in such a foolish amusement.. - - - - -
in ITALIAN: quando in disgrazia con la fortuna ed agli occhi degli uomini, tutto solo nella mia condizione di emarginato, ed invoco le sorde orecchie del cielo con i miei inutili lamenti, e guardando dentro me stesso maledico la mia sorte, desiderando di essere come chi è più ricco di speranze, di bellezza e di amici, o ancora invidiando al prossimo con taluno la sua arte, o ad altri il loro potere, sempre insoddisfatto di ciò che io possiedo; e mentre quasi mi disprezzo in questi pensieri, felicemente inizio a pensarti, e come l'allodola gioiosa si alza in volo all'alba, dalla cupa terra, canto inni all'ingresso del paradiso: ed il ricordo del tuo amore mi porta ad una tale felicità, che disprezzerei di cambiare la mia condizione perfino con quella di un re
I'm going to memorise this one!
Such is the power of love that the poet on remembering his beloved, would not inter-change his position even with a King. Fabulous and fantastic!
nice poem...he finds himself not content with what he has and troubles God and heaven, by asking for more and then discovers the little lark arises from the earth, is happy at break of day and joyfully sings, ...astonishingly beautiful :)
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