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Ni slova, o drug moj ('Not a word, o my friend') (1869) Op. 6 no. 2

Ni slova, o drug moj ('Not a word, o my friend')

Ni slova, o drug moj, ni vzdokha...
My budem s toboj molchalivy...
Ved' molcha nad kamnem mogil'nym
Sklonjajutsja grustnye ivy...
I tol'ko, sklonivshis', chitajut,
Kak ja v tvojom vzore ustalom,
Chto byli dni jasnogo schast'ja...
Chto `etogo schast'ja -- ne stalo!

Not a word, o my friend

Not a word, oh my friend, not a sigh…
Wes hall be silent together…
Just as the sad willows bend
Over the gravestone…
And as they bend low, they read,
Just as I read in your tired gaze,
That you once knew days of radiant happiness…
And that that happiness exists no longer!

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