Ольга Воронец - Черёмуха - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Outside the cherry window, swaying ...

The words of B. Timofeev

Outside the cherry window, swaying,

Showering their petals.

A familiar voice is heard by the river

Yes, they sing the whole night of the nightingale.

The girl's heart was stuck sweetly ...

Ah, how everything blooms now in the garden!

Wait for me, my affectionate, my joyful,

I will come to you at the coveted hour.

Outside the window, autumn thaw.

How deserted early in the morning!

Only a belated leaf spins,

Only the birds are chilled in the wind ...

Ah, why the heart is bought by you!

For whom is your gaze now?

It's a pity not that I am left to you,

It is a pity that people talk a lot.

Again in the garden of the bird cherry swaying,

Showering their petals.

But your familiar voice is not heard

They only sing, as before, nightingales.

Silver twigs hit the window.

Sleep runs from girlish eyelashes.

There is still no news from you ...

At least you dream of this at night!

1926

Russian Soviet songs (1917-1977). Comp. N. Kryukov and J. Swedes. M., “Artist. Lit. ”, 1977 - with the signature“ People’s Music ”.

Perhaps the author of the music of this song exists, simply for ideological reasons, it could not be indicated in the Soviet collection. For example, they could be Boris Prozorovsky, who often worked with Timofeev, sent to Belomorkanal and died in camps in 1933.

Options (3)

1. under the window of the bird cherry swaying,

Through their petals ...

A familiar voice is heard behind the river

Yes, they sing the whole night of the nightingale.

The girl's heart was beating joyfully ...

How fresh, how good it is in the garden!

Wait for me, my joyful, my joyful,

I will come to you at the coveted hour.

Ah, why the heart is bought by you!

For whom is your gaze now?

I'm not sorry that I am left to you,

It is a pity that people say a lot ...

Outside the window under the roof, pigeons are moaning,

This morning is a small frost.

I don't have to run to the hole for long,

Without hiding even brown braids.

Directly to the river, the path is laid.

Sleep, baby! After all, you are not to blame!

I will not cry and grieve -

The past will not return back.

Under the window of the bird cherry is swaying,

Diping their petals,

There is no voice behind the river,

Nightingales do not sing there anymore.

The last two lines of the verses are repeated

Variant of the poem B. N. Timofeev

Ah, Zti Black Eyes. Comp. Yu. G. Ivanov. Muses. Editor S.V. Pyankov. - Smolensk: Rusich, 2004

2. under the window of the bird cherry swaying,

Diping their petals.

A familiar voice is heard behind the river

Yes, they sing the whole night of the nightingale.

Oh you, song, nightingale song,

What do you take for a soul.

After all, a long path leads to love,

A little behind - and you won’t get at all.

And you will get - you will not breathe out of happiness,

From the hugs of hot, from love ...

Let then the bird cherry swaying

And they sing the whole night of the nightingale.

The last two lines of the verses are repeated

The folk version of the poem by B. N. Timofeev.

Lilac fog: songwriter: favorite songs and romances for voice and guitar. - St. Petersburg: Composer, 2006.

3. Under the bird cherry window, swaying,

Showering their petals.

A familiar voice is heard behind the river

Yes, they sing the whole night of the nightingale.

Oh, you, the song of the nightingale,

How do you take your soul!

After all, a long path leads to love:

I am slightly behind, and you won’t get at all ...

And you will get - you will not breathe out of happiness.

From the confessions of gentle, from love,

Let then the bird cherry swaying,

And they sing the whole night of the nightingale.

Takun F.I. Slavic bazaar. - M.: Modern Music, 2005