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Наши предки лезли в клети И [шептались]1 там не раз: "Туго, братцы...видно, дети Будут жить вольготней нас". Дети выросли. И эти Лезли в клети в грозный час И [вздыхали]2: "Наши дети Встретят солнце после нас". Нынче так же, как вовеки, Утешение одно: Наши дети будут в Мекке, Если нам не суждено. Даже сроки предсказали: Кто - лет двести, кто - пятьсот, А пока лежи в печали И мычи, как идиот. Разукрашенные дули, Мир умыт, причёсан, мил... Лет чрез двести? Чёрта в стуле! Разве я Мафусаил? Я, как филин, на обломках Переломанных богов. В неродившихся потомках Нет мне братьев и врагов. Я хочу немножко света Для себя, пока я жив, От портного до поэта - Всем понятен мой призыв... А потомки... Пусть потомки, Исполняя жребий свой И кляня свои потёмки, Лупят в стенку головой!
1 Shostakovich: "вздыхали" (vzdykhali)
2 Shostakovich: "шептали" (sheptali)
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Note on TransliterationsAuthorship:
- by Aleksandr Mikhailovich Glikberg (1880 - 1932), as Sasha Chyorny, "Потомки" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Dmitri Dmitriyevich Shostakovich (1906 - 1975), "Потомки", op. 109 no. 3 (1960), from Пять сатир = Pjat' satir, no. 3 [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English [singable] (Leonard Lehrman) , "Descendants", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Les descendants", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- LIT Lithuanian (Lietuvių kalba) (Giedrius Prunskus) , "Palikuonys", copyright © 2022, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 32
Word count: 133
Our predecessors, rattling in their cages, often said: "Truly, brothers, our children will be freer when we're dead." And their children grew, and lived in cages still more terrible. And they whispered: "To our children, sunlight will be visible." Now for our children there's one consolation that must do: They will surely get to Mecca, though we shall not get there too. Length of days now seems predestined: Two hundred, five hundred years, Who will bellow like a fool, and who will melt away in tears. Everything will soon be combed and cleaned. The time is not too far. Maybe just two hundred years? Like hell! Am I Methuselah? Like an owl, I stand among the idols broken long ago. In descendants not yet born I have no brother, friend or foe. I would like a little light just for myself, while I'm still here. From the tailor to the poet – let them hear me, loud and clear. Ah, descendants! Let them come and meet the fate that comes to all. Let them learn to curse the dark, and beat their heads against a wall!
Authorship:
- Singable translation from Russian (Русский) to English copyright © 2017 by Leonard Lehrman, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., please ask the copyright-holder(s) directly.
Leonard Lehrman.  Contact: ljlehrman (AT) nassaulibrary (DOT) org
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Based on:
- a text in Russian (Русский) by Aleksandr Mikhailovich Glikberg (1880 - 1932), as Sasha Chyorny, "Потомки"
This text was added to the website: 2017-10-15
Line count: 32
Word count: 186