Lyrics Александр Пушкин - Вновь я посетил
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...Вновь я посетил
Тот уголок земли, где я провел
Изгнанником два года незаметных.
Уж десять лет ушло с тех пор — и много
Переменилось в жизни для меня,
И сам, покорный общему закону,
Переменился я — но здесь опять
Минувшее меня объемлет живо,
И, кажется, вечор еще бродил
Я в этих рощах.
Вот опальный домик,
Где жил я с бедной нянею моей.
Уже старушки нет — уж за стеною
Не слышу я шагов ее тяжелых,
Ни кропотливого ее дозора.
Вот холм лесистый, над которым часто
Я сиживал недвижим — и глядел
На озеро, воспоминая с грустью
Иные берега, иные волны...
Меж нив златых и пажитей зеленых
Оно, синея, стелется широко;
Через его неведомые воды
Плывет рыбак и тянет за собой
Убогий невод. По брегам отлогим
Рассеяны деревни — там за ними
Скривилась мельница, насилу крылья
Ворочая при ветре...
На границе
Владений дедовских, на месте том,
Где в гору подымается дорога,
Изрытая дождями, три сосны
Стоят — одна поодаль, две другие
Друг к дружке близко, — здесь, когда их мимо
Я проезжал верхом при свете лунном,
Знакомым шумом шорох их вершин
Меня приветствовал. По той дороге
Теперь поехал я и пред собою
Увидел их опять. Они всё те же,
Все тот же их, знакомый уху шорох —
Но около корней их устарелых
(Где некогда все было пусто, голо)
Теперь младая роща разрослась,
Зеленая семья; кусты теснятся
Под сенью их как дети. А вдали
Стоит один угрюмый их товарищ,
Как старый холостяк, и вкруг него
По-прежнему все пусто.
Здравствуй, племя
Младое, незнакомое! не я
Увижу твой могучий поздний возраст,
Когда перерастешь моих знакомцев
И старую главу их заслонишь
От глаз прохожего. Но пусть мой внук
Услышит ваш приветный шум, когда,
С приятельской беседы возвращаясь,
Веселых и приятных мыслей полон,
Пройдет он мимо вас во мраке ночи
И обо мне вспомянет.
... again I visited
That corner of the land where I spent
Exile two years imperceptible.
Already ten years have passed since then - and many
Changed in life for me
And himself, obedient to the general law,
I have changed - but here again
The past body is alive,
And, it seems, the evening still wandered
I'm in these groves.
Here is a disgraced house,
Where I lived with my poor nanny.
Already the old woman is not - so behind the wall
I can not hear her heavy steps,
Nor her painstaking watch.
Here is a wooded hill, over which often
I sat motionless and looked
On the lake, remembering with sadness
Other shores, other waves ...
Between the fields of gold and greens
It, blue, spreads widely;
Through its unknown waters
Fisherman floats and pulls along
Wretched seine. Bregam slopes
Scattered villages - there behind them
The windmill creaked, the wings of force
Tossing with the wind ...
On the border
Dedovskikh possessions, in place of
Where the road goes uphill,
Pitted with rain, three pines
Stand - one at a distance, the other two
A friend to a friend is close, - here, when they are past
I rode by the light of the moon,
Familiar noise rustle of their peaks
I was greeted. Down that road
Now I went and before me
Saw them again. They are all the same
All the same, their familiar rustling ear -
But about the roots of their obsolete
(Where once everything was empty, bare)
Now the young grove has grown,
Green family; bushes crowded
Under the shadow of them as children. And away
It is worth one gloomy their companion,
Like an old bachelor, and around him
Everything is still empty.
Hello tribe
Young, unfamiliar! not me
I will see your mighty late age
When outgrow my acquaintances
And the old chapter will shield them
From the eyes of a passerby. But let my grandson
Hear your noisy noise when,
With a friendly conversation coming back,
Merry and pleasant thoughts full of
He will pass you in the darkness of the night
And she will remember me.
That corner of the land where I spent
Exile two years imperceptible.
Already ten years have passed since then - and many
Changed in life for me
And himself, obedient to the general law,
I have changed - but here again
The past body is alive,
And, it seems, the evening still wandered
I'm in these groves.
Here is a disgraced house,
Where I lived with my poor nanny.
Already the old woman is not - so behind the wall
I can not hear her heavy steps,
Nor her painstaking watch.
Here is a wooded hill, over which often
I sat motionless and looked
On the lake, remembering with sadness
Other shores, other waves ...
Between the fields of gold and greens
It, blue, spreads widely;
Through its unknown waters
Fisherman floats and pulls along
Wretched seine. Bregam slopes
Scattered villages - there behind them
The windmill creaked, the wings of force
Tossing with the wind ...
On the border
Dedovskikh possessions, in place of
Where the road goes uphill,
Pitted with rain, three pines
Stand - one at a distance, the other two
A friend to a friend is close, - here, when they are past
I rode by the light of the moon,
Familiar noise rustle of their peaks
I was greeted. Down that road
Now I went and before me
Saw them again. They are all the same
All the same, their familiar rustling ear -
But about the roots of their obsolete
(Where once everything was empty, bare)
Now the young grove has grown,
Green family; bushes crowded
Under the shadow of them as children. And away
It is worth one gloomy their companion,
Like an old bachelor, and around him
Everything is still empty.
Hello tribe
Young, unfamiliar! not me
I will see your mighty late age
When outgrow my acquaintances
And the old chapter will shield them
From the eyes of a passerby. But let my grandson
Hear your noisy noise when,
With a friendly conversation coming back,
Merry and pleasant thoughts full of
He will pass you in the darkness of the night
And she will remember me.