Lyrics непонятно кто - Плач Ярославны
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Над широким берегом Дуна́я,
Над великой Га́лицкой землёй
Плачет, из Пути́вля долетая,
Голос Яросла́вны молодой:
«Обернусь я, бедная, кукушкой,
По Дунаю-речке полечу
И рукав с бобровою опу́шкой
Наклонясь, в Кая́ле омочу.
Улетят, развеются туманы,
Приоткроет очи Игорь-князь,
И утру́ кровавые я раны,
Над могучим телом наклонясь».
Далеко́ в Путивле, на забрале,
Лишь заря займётся поутру,
Ярославна, полная печали,
Как кукушка, кличет на юру́:
«Что ты, Ветер, злобно повеваешь,
Что клубишь туманы у реки́,
Стрелы полове́цкие вздымаешь,
Мечешь их на русские полки́?
Чем тебе не любо на просторе
Высоко́ под облаком летать,
Корабли лелеять в синем море,
За кормою во́лны колыхать?
Ты же, стре́лы вражеские сея,
Только смертью веешь с высоты.
Ах, зачем, зачем моё веселье
В ковылях навек развеял ты?»
На заре в Путивле причитая,
Как кукушка раннею весной,
Ярославна кличет молодая,
На стене рыдая городской:
«Днепр мой славный! Каменные го́ры
В землях половецких ты проби́л,
Святослава в дальние просторы
До полков Кобя́ковых носил.
Возлелей же князя, господи́не,
Сохрани на дальней стороне,
Чтоб забыла слёзы я отныне,
Чтобы жив вернулся он ко мне!»
Over the wide bank of the Danube,
Over the great Galician land
Crying, from Putivel,
Yaroslavna's young voice:
"I turn round, poor, cuckoo,
On the Danube River I will fly
And a sleeve with a beaver's edge
Leaning, in Kayal I shall wet.
Fogs will fly away,
The prince will open his eyes,
And in the morning bloody wounds,
Above a mighty body, bend over. "
Far in Putivl, on the visor,
Only dawn will do in the morning,
Yaroslavna, full of sadness,
Like a cuckoo, he calls to the Jura:
"What are you winding, Angry,
That you bathe fogs by the river,
You raise the Polovtsian arrows,
Mesh them on the Russian regiments?
Than you do not like anything in the open air
High under the cloud fly,
Ships cherish in the blue sea,
Behind the stern waves sway?
You, the enemy's arrows sowing,
Only death you drive from a height.
Oh, why, why my fun
Have you scattered them in feathers forever? "
At dawn in Putivl lamenting,
As a cuckoo in the early spring,
Yaroslavna calls the young,
On the wall sobbing city:
"My Dnepr is glorious! Stone Mountains
In the lands of the Polovtsians you have struck,
Svyatoslav in the far reaches
Prior to the regiments Kobyakovs wore.
But please, prince, my lord,
Keep on the far side,
So that I can forget my tears from now on,
To live he returned to me! "
Over the great Galician land
Crying, from Putivel,
Yaroslavna's young voice:
"I turn round, poor, cuckoo,
On the Danube River I will fly
And a sleeve with a beaver's edge
Leaning, in Kayal I shall wet.
Fogs will fly away,
The prince will open his eyes,
And in the morning bloody wounds,
Above a mighty body, bend over. "
Far in Putivl, on the visor,
Only dawn will do in the morning,
Yaroslavna, full of sadness,
Like a cuckoo, he calls to the Jura:
"What are you winding, Angry,
That you bathe fogs by the river,
You raise the Polovtsian arrows,
Mesh them on the Russian regiments?
Than you do not like anything in the open air
High under the cloud fly,
Ships cherish in the blue sea,
Behind the stern waves sway?
You, the enemy's arrows sowing,
Only death you drive from a height.
Oh, why, why my fun
Have you scattered them in feathers forever? "
At dawn in Putivl lamenting,
As a cuckoo in the early spring,
Yaroslavna calls the young,
On the wall sobbing city:
"My Dnepr is glorious! Stone Mountains
In the lands of the Polovtsians you have struck,
Svyatoslav in the far reaches
Prior to the regiments Kobyakovs wore.
But please, prince, my lord,
Keep on the far side,
So that I can forget my tears from now on,
To live he returned to me! "