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This poem is told from the perspective of different plants and a daughter, lamenting their fates of being cut down or married off against their will. Each verse follows a similar pattern where the speaker asks if they were a type of plant or daughter, describes growing or their situation, then how they were cut down, broken, or married off against their wishes. They end each verse expressing their woe and accepting that this was their lot in life.
Descrizione originale:
Was i not a little blade of Grass Tchaikovsky
Titolo originale
Was I Not a Little Blade of Grass in the Meadow_ - Я ли в поле да не травушка была_ - Tchaikovsky
This poem is told from the perspective of different plants and a daughter, lamenting their fates of being cut down or married off against their will. Each verse follows a similar pattern where the speaker asks if they were a type of plant or daughter, describes growing or their situation, then how they were cut down, broken, or married off against their wishes. They end each verse expressing their woe and accepting that this was their lot in life.
This poem is told from the perspective of different plants and a daughter, lamenting their fates of being cut down or married off against their will. Each verse follows a similar pattern where the speaker asks if they were a type of plant or daughter, describes growing or their situation, then how they were cut down, broken, or married off against their wishes. They end each verse expressing their woe and accepting that this was their lot in life.
Ja li v pole da ne travushka byla, Was I not a blade of grass in the field,
Ja li v pole ne zelenaja rosla; Did I not grow, all green, in the field? Vzjali menja, travushku, skosili, They took me, blade of grass, and cut me down, Na solnyshke v pole issushili. The left me out to dry in the field under Okh, ty, gore moje, gorjushko! the sun. Znat' takaja moja doljushka! Oh you, oh woe of mine, miserable woe! Such is my lot in life!
Ja li v pole ne pshenichushka byla? Was I not a guelder rose in the field,
Ja li v pole ne vysokaja rosla? Did I not grow, my berries red, in the Vzjali menja srezali serpami field? They took the rose bush and cut it down Sklali menja na pole snopami And tied me up in a bunch of twigs! Okh ty gore, mojo gorjushko Oh you, oh woe of mine, miserable woe! Znat' takaja moja doljushka. Such is my lot in life!
Ja li v pole ne kalinushka byla, Was I not like a guilder-rose in the field?
Ja li v pole da ne krasnaja rosla; Was I not growing beautifully in the field? Vzjali kalinushku, polomali / slomali, They’ve broken my branches (and) Da v zhgutiki menja posvjazali! Tied them into bundles. Okh, ty, gore moje, gorjushko! Oh you, oh woe of mine, miserable woe! Znat' takaja moja doljushka! Such is my lot in life!
Ja l' u batjushki ne dochen'ka byla, Was I not my father’s little daughter,
U rodimoj ne cvetochek ja rosla; Did I not grow up as my mother’s little flower? Nevolej menja, bednuju, vzjali, They took me against me will, poor girl, Da s nemilym, sedym povenchali! And married me off to a grey old man I Okh, ty, gore moje, gorjushko! didn’t love! Znat' takaja moja doljushka! Oh you, oh woe of mine, miserable woe! Such is my lot in life