Gasnut dal’ney Al’pukhary
Zolotistiye kraya.
Na prizyvnyy zvon gitary, vydi, milaya moya!

Vse kto skazhet, shto drugaya,
Zdes’ ravnyayetsya s toboy,
Vsekh, lyuboviyu zgoraya,
Vsekh, vsekh, vsekh zovu na smertnyy boy!

Ot lunnogo sveta zardel nebosklon,
O vyidi Nisetta, O vyidi Nisetta
Skoryey na balkon!

Ot Sevil’yi do Grenady
V tikhom sumrake nochey,
Razdayutsa serenady
Razdayotsa zvon mechey.

Mnogo krovi, mnogo pesney,
Dlya prelesnykh l’yutsa dam,
Ya zhe toy,kto vsekh prelesney,

Pesn’ i krov’ moyu otdam!
Ot lunnogo sveta zardel nebosklon,
O vyidi Nisetta, O vyidi Nisetta,
Skoryey na balkon!

Alexei Tolstoy (1817-1875)

Darkness descends
On Alpujara’s golden land.
My guitar invites you, come out my dear!

Whoever says that there are others
Who can be compared to you,
Whoever burns for your love,
I challenge them all to a duel!

Now the moon has set the sky alight,
Come out Nisetta, Oh, come out Nisetta,
On to your balcony, quickly!

From Seville to Granada
In the silence of the nights,
One can hear the sound of serenades
and the clashing of swords.

Much blood, many songs,
Pour forth for the lovely ladies;
And I, for the loveliest one of all.

I am ready to give my song and my blood.
Now the moon has set the sky alight,
Come out Nisetta, Oh, come out Nisetta,
On to your balcony, quickly!

English: M H Rolle

To bïlo ranneyu vesnoy,
Trava edva vskhodila,
Ruchi tekli, ne paril znoy,
I zelen roshch skvozila;

Truba pastushya poutru
Eshchyo ne pela zvonko,
I v zavitkakh eshchyo v boru,
Bïl paporotnik tonkiy;

To bïlo ranneyu vesnoy,
V teni beryoz to bïlo,
Kogda s ulïbkoy predo mnoy
Tï ochi opustila …

To na lyubov moyu v otvet
Tï opustila vezhdï!
O zhizn! o les! o solntsa svet!
O yunost! o nadezhdï!

I plakal ya pered toboy,
Na lik tvoy glyadya milïy;
To bïlo ranneyu vesnoy,
V teni beryoz to bïlo!

To bïlo v utro nashikh let!
O schastye! o slyozï!
O les! o zhizn! o solntsa svet!
O svezhiy dukh beryozï!

Alexei Tolstoy (1817-1875)

It was in early spring,
The grass had barely sprouted,
Streams were flowing, it was still cool,
The groves were newly green.

In the mornings, the clear sound
Of shepherds’ pipes was still silent,
In the pinewoods the slender ferns
Were still tightly curled.

It was in early spring,
In the shade of the birch trees,
When you smiled and lowered
Your eyes before me …

It was in reply to my love
That you lowered your gaze.
O life! O forest! O sunlight!
O youth! O hopes!

And I wept before you,
Looking into your beloved face.
It was in early spring,
In the shade of the birch trees.

It was the morning of our life!
O happiness! O tears!
O forest! O life! O sunlight!
O the fresh scent of the birches!

English: Andrew Huth © 2009

Sred’ shumnogo bala, sluchayno,
V trevoge mirskoy suyety
Tebya ya uvidel, no tayna
Tvoyi pokryvala cherty.

Lish ochi pechal’no, glyadeli,
A golos tak divno zvuchal,
Kak zvuk otdalyonnoy svireli,
Kak morya bushuyushchy val.

Mne stan tvoy ponravilsia tonky
I ves’ tvoy zadumchivy vid,
A smekh tvoy i grustny i zvonky,
S tekh por v moyom serdtse zvuchit.

V chasy odinokiye, nochi
Lyublyu ya ustaly prilech,
Ya vizhu pechal’nye ochi,
Ya slyshu vesyoluyu rech’.

I grustno ya grustno tak zasypayu,
I v griozakh nevedomykh splyu
Liublyu li tebya ya ne znayu,
No kazhetsia mne, shto lyublu.

Alexei Tolstoy (1817-1875)

In the midst of the noisy ball,
Amid the anxious bustle of life,
I caught sight of you,
Your face, an enigma.

Only your eyes gazed sadly.
Your divine voice
Sounded like pipes from afar,
Like the dancing waves of the sea.

Your delicate form entranced me,
And your pensiveness,
Your sad yet merry laughter,
Has permeated my heart since then.

And in the lonely hours of the night,
When I to lie down to rest,
I see your pensive eyes,
Hear your merry laugh …

And wistfully drifting
Into mysterious reveries,
I wonder if I love you,
But it seems that I do.

English: M H Rolle

Sred shumnovo bala, sluchayno,
V trevoge mirskoy suyetï,
Tebya ya uvidel, no tayna
Tvoi pokrïvala chertï.

Lish ochi pechalno glyadeli,
A golos tak divno zvuchal,
Kak zvon otdalyonnoy svireli,
Kak morya igrayushchiy val.

Mne stan tvoy ponravilsa tonkiy
I ves tvoy zadumchivïy vid,
A smekh tvoy, i grustnïy, i zvonkiy,
S tekh por v moyom serdtse zvuchit.

V chasï odinokiye nochi
Lyublyu ya, ustalïy, prilech;
Ya vizhu pechalnïye ochi,
Ya slïshu vesyoluyu rech,

I grustno ya, grustno tak zasïpayu,
I v gryozakh nevedomïkh splyu …
Lyublyu li tebya, ya ne znayu,
No kazhetsa mne, shto lyublyu!

Alexei Tolstoy (1817-1875)

At a noisy ball, quite by chance,
In the tumult of worldly bustle,
I caught sight of you, but mystery
Veiled your features.

Your eyes betrayed your sadness,
Yet your voice had a lovely ring,
Like the sound of a distant flute
Or the playful waves of the sea.

Your slim figure entranced me,
As well as your dreamy appearance;
And your sad but ringing laughter
Has since then echoed in my heart.

In the lonely hours of the night,
I like to lie down when I am weary
And conjure up your sad eyes
And the sound of your cheerful talk.

And sadly, so sadly, I fall asleep
And sink into strange dreams.
Am I in love with you? I don’t know,
But yes, I think I am in love.

English: Andrew Huth © 2009