Lyrics М.Ю. Лермонтов - Мцыри

Artist: Rymar I.

On the motifs of the songs of Lyapis Trubetskoi, Ahra, the Auction, and others.

Mikhail Yurjevich Lermontov
Mtsyri

Tasting, tasting a little honey and I'm dying.
1 st Book of the kingdoms.

1

A few years ago,
There, where merge noise
Embraced, as if two sisters,
The streams of Aragva and the Kura,
There was a monastery. Because of the mountain
And now sees a pedestrian
The pillars of the collapsed gate,
And the towers, and the church vault;
But do not smoke under it
Censers of fragrant smoke,
I can not hear the song at the late hour
Praying monks for us.
Now one old man is white,
Ruin guard half-dead,
People and death is forgotten,
Sweeps dust off gravestones,
Which the inscription says
The glory of the past -
How dejected his crown,
Such a king, in such and such a year,
He gave his people to Russia.
And God's grace has come down
To Georgia! She blossomed
Since then, in the shadow of their gardens,
Not fearing enemies,
Beyond the bounds of friendly bayonets.

2

Once a Russian general
From the mountains to Tiflis passed;
He was carrying a child of a prisoner.
He fell ill, did not suffer
Trudov long way.
He seemed to be about six years old;
Like chamois of mountains, fearful and wild
And weak and flexible, like a reed.
But it is a painful ailment
Developed then a mighty spirit
His fathers. Without complaints, he
I languished - even a weak moan
From the mouths of children did not fly,
He denied food,
And quietly, proudly died.
Out of pity, one monk
The patient saw, and within the walls
He remained treasured
I am saved by art.
But, alien to the childish comfort,
First he ran from everyone,
Wandered silently, alone,
He looked sighing to the east,
We are languidly melancholy
On the side of his own.
But after he was used to captivity,
I began to understand someone else's language,
He was baptized by the holy father,
And, with a noisy light,
Already wanted in the color of the years
To utter a monastic vow,
When suddenly he disappeared
Autumn night. Dark forest
Pulled along the mountains around.
Three days all the searches on it
They were vain, but then
He was found in the steppes without feelings
And again they brought it to the monastery;
He was terribly pale and thin
And weak, as if a long work,
Illness or a famine tested.
He did not answer for the interrogation,
And every day, noticeably sluggish;
And his end was near.
Then the black man came to him
With admonition and entreaty;
And, proudly having listened, the patient
He rose, gathered the rest of his strength,
And for a long time he said:

3

"You listen to my confession
Come here, thank you.
Everything is better before someone
Words to lighten my chest;
But to people I did not do evil,
And because of my work
It is not much use to you to know;
A soul can I tell you?
I lived a little, and lived in captivity.
There are two lives for one,
But only full of anxieties,
I would trade it if I could.
I only knew the thoughts of power,
One - but a fiery passion:
She lived like a worm in me,
I have eaten my soul and burned it.
She called my dreams
From cells stifling and prayers
In that wonderful world of anxieties and battles,
Where in the clouds are hidden rocks,
Where people are free, like eagles.
I am this passion in the darkness of the night
He nurtured with tears and sorrow;
Its before heaven and earth
I now loudly acknowledge
And I do not pray for forgiveness.

4

"Old man! I heard many times,
That you saved me from death -
What for? ... gloomy and lonely,
Thunderstorm torn sheet,
I grew up in gloomy walls,
The soul of a child, the destiny of a monk.
I could not tell anyone
The sacred words are "father" and "mother".
Of course, you wanted, old man,
So that I'm used to the monastery
From these sweet names.
In vain: their sound was born
With me. I've seen others
Fatherland, home, friends, relatives,
And I did not find
Not only lovely souls - graves!
Then, empty without spending tears,
I swore in my heart:
Although for a moment ever
My flaming chest
Press with depression to chest another,
Though unfamiliar, but native.
Alas, now those dreams are
Killed in full beauty,
And I, as I have lived, are in a foreign land
I'll die as a slave and an orphan.

5

"My grave does not frighten me:
There, they say, suffering is asleep
In cold, eternal silence;
But it's a shame to part with me.
I'm young, young ... Did you know
Raging youthful dreams?
Or did not know, or forgot,
How I hated and loved;
How the heart was beating alive
At the sight of the sun and fields
With a high corner tower,
Where the air is fresh and where sometimes
In the deep hole of the wall,
A child of an unknown country,
Huddled, the dove is young
Sits scared of a storm?
Let now a beautiful light
You are faint: you are weak, you are gray,
And you have not learned from desires.
What kind of need? You lived, old man!
You have something to forget in the world,
You lived - I could also live!

6th

"Do you want to know what I saw?"
In the wild? - Lush fields,
Hills covered with a wreath
The trees, sprawling around,
Noisy with a fresh crowd,
As brothers in the dance are circular.
I saw piles of dark rocks,
When the stream separated them,
And I thought their thoughts:
I was over it!
Spread out in the air a long time ago
Embedding them in stone,
And they yearn to meet every moment;
But the days are running, the years are running -
They never get together!
I saw mountain ranges,
Bizarre as a dream,
When in the morning of dawn
Smoked like altars,
They are blue in the sky,
And a cloud behind a cloud,
Leaving his secret lodging for the night,
To the east was running -
As if the white caravan
Migratory birds from distant lands!
In the distance I saw through the fog,
In the snow, burning like a diamond,
Gray, unshakable Caucasus;
And it was to my heart
It's easy, I do not know why.
I heard a secret voice,
What once and I lived there,
And it became in my memory
The past is clearer, clearer.

7th

"And I remembered my father's house,
Our Gorge