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А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И Й К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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1. Song about Song
Сайт: http://ahmatova.niv.ru Размер: 2кб.
2. The Song of Igor's Campaign, Igor son of Svyatoslav and grandson of Oleg (перевод Набокова)
Сайт: http://nabokov-lit.ru Размер: 34кб.
3. Варианты "Песня о Земле" (Кто сказал: "Все сгорело дотла...", на английском — "Song About Earth")
Сайт: http://vysotskiy-lit.ru Размер: 2кб.

Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах

1. Song about Song
Сайт: http://ahmatova.niv.ru Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: So many stones have been thrown at me That I don't fear them any longer Like elegant tower the westerner stands free Among tall towers, the taller. I'm grateful to their builders - so be gone Their sadness and their worry, go away, Early from here I can see the dawn And here triumphant lives the sun's last ray. And frequently into my room's window The winds from northern seas begin to blow And pigeon from my palms eats wheat.. The pages that I did not complete Divinely light she is and calm, Will finish Muse's suntanned arm.
2. The Song of Igor's Campaign, Igor son of Svyatoslav and grandson of Oleg (перевод Набокова)
Сайт: http://nabokov-lit.ru Размер: 34кб.
Часть текста: Набокова) The Song of Igor's Campaign,  Igor son of Svyatoslav and grandson of Oleg Translated by Vladimir Nabokov Exordium Might it not become us, brothers, to begin in the diction of yore the stern tale of the campaign of Igor, Igor son of Svyatoslav? Let us, however, begin this song in keeping with the happenings of these times and not with the contriving of Boyan. For he, vatic Boyan if he wished to make a laud for one, ranged in thought [like the nightingale] over the tree; like the gray wolf across land; like the smoky eagle up to the clouds. For as he recalled, said he, the feuds of initial times, "He set ten falcons upon a flock of swans, and the one first overtaken, sang a song first"- to Yaroslav of yore, and to brave Mstislav who slew Rededya before the Kasog troops, and to fair Roman son of Svyatoslav. To be sure, brothers, Boyan did not [really] set ten falcons upon a flock of swans: his own vatic fingers he laid on the live strings,   which then twanged out by themselves a paean to princes. So let us begin, brothers, this tale- from Vladimir of yore to nowadays Igor. who girded his mind with fortitude, and sharpened his heart with manliness; [thus] imbued with the spirit of arms, he led his brave troops against the Kuman land in the name of the Russian land. Boyan apostrophized O Boyan, nigh tingale of the times of old! If you were to trill [your praise of]   these troops,   while hopping, nightingale, over the tre e of thought; [if you were] flying in mind up to the clouds; [if] weaving paeans around these times, [you were] roving the Troyan Trail, across fields onto hills; then the song to be sung of Igor, that grandson of Oleg [, would be]: "No storm has swept falcons across wide fields;   flocks of daws flee toward the Great Don";   or you might...
3. Варианты "Песня о Земле" (Кто сказал: "Все сгорело дотла...", на английском — "Song About Earth")
Сайт: http://vysotskiy-lit.ru Размер: 2кб.
Часть текста: Варианты "Песня о Земле" (Кто сказал: "Все сгорело дотла...", на английском — "Song About Earth") После 5 куплета исполнялось: Кто сказал: "Всё сгорело дотла, Больше в землю не бросите семя!"? Кто сказал, что Земля умерла? Нет, она затаилась на время! Кто сказал, что Земля умерла? Нет, она затаилась на время! Кто поверил, что Землю сожгли?! Нет, она затаилась на время... На английском — "Song About Earth" Who could say: "All was burned to a crisp, Earth will never again be fertile!"? Who could say that it ceased to exist? No, it quieted down for a while. Earth of motherhood try to bereave — It"s as hard as to empty an ocean. Who believes Earth was burned, who believes? No, it blackened of grief and commotion. Gash-like trenches are running across. Gaping wide, crater wounds never cured, Laying bare all Earth"s bare nerves, Which unspeakable pain have endured. It"ll wait, it"ll bear anything, — Called a cripple will hardly be ever! Who would argue that Earth doesn"t sing? Who would say it"s been silenced forever?! No! It muffles its groans in a call, Every wound of it sings, every hole! Earth is our soul, after all, — How can boots trample down a soul?! Who believes Earth was burned, who believes? No, it quieted down for a while... Translated by Eugenia Weinstein http://www.interlog.com/~eugeniav/vysotsky.html 1969

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