Tuesday, February 04, 2014

Voices of the forest primeval, disguised as young pioneers - Belovezhskaya Pushcha (Białowieża Forest)





Soloist: Vitaly Nikolaev. Composer: Aleksandra Pakhmutova. Choir: Big Children's Choir, USSR, 1977. Apologies for the audio quality. This, honestly, is a fall-into-one's-brain-and-stew-there, nostalgic post.

Belovezhskaya Pushcha (Białowieża Forest) is one of the few remaining sections of ancient woodland in Eastern Europe. Centuries-old oaks live there--with names like Emperor of the North and Emperor of the South.

Might there be a song to which the spirit flees like the first white crane returning in spring, and remains there, suspended, untouched by violence or bitterness?

Oops-- realized I left out a verse, so I've inserted it. Could it be that for some of us, healing is a unique dance caught up in the wounding and the mystery of time, that only trees truly comprehend? All the best to Vitaly in his current existence.

Belovezhskaya Pushcha


A timeless melody, a distant promise,
Light of a crystal dawn,
Light above the world arising,
I understand your age-old sorrow,
Belovezhskaya Forest, Belovezhskaya Forest.

Here is our long-forgotten parental home,
And hearing the voice of ancestors calling,
A gray forest bird from distant centuries,
I fly to you, I return, Belovezhskaya Forest.

A gray forest bird from distant centuries,
I fly to you, I return, Belovezhskaya Forest.

The perennial oaks gather greatness,
Lily-of-the-valley in shadow, guardian of treasure
The children do not want your bison extinct,
Belovezhskaya Forest, Belovezhskaya Forest.

The children do not want your bison extinct,
Belovezhskaya Forest, Belovezhskaya Forest.

On an umarked path I make my way to the creek,
Where grass is higher, where thickets thicker;
Like the deer, on my knees I drink your holy
Spring of truth, Belovezhskaya Forest.

Having warmed my heart at the tall birches,
I carry away with me a living solace,
Your treasured refrain, a miraculous melody,
Belovezhskaya Forest, Belovezhskaya Forest.

Your treasured refrain, a miraculous melody,
Belovezhskaya Forest, Belovezhskaya Forest.

--Nikolai Dobronravov

Беловежская Пуща

Заповедный напев, заповедная даль,
Свет хрустальной зари,
Свет над миром встающий,
Мне понятна твоя вековая печаль,
Беловежская пуща, Беловежская пуща.

Здесь забытый давно наш родительский кров
И, услышав порой голос предков зовущий,
Серой птицей лесной из далёких веков
Я к тебе прилетаю, Беловежская пуща.

Серой птицей лесной из далёких веков
Я к тебе прилетаю, Беловежская пуща.

Многолетних дубов величавая стать.
Отрок-ландыш в тени, чей-то клад стерегущий…
Дети зубров твоих не хотят вымирать,
Беловежская пуща, Беловежская пуща.

Дети зубров твоих не хотят вымирать,
Беловежская пуща, Беловежская пуща.

Неприметной тропой пробираюсь к ручью,
Где трава высока, там, где заросли гуще,
Как олени, с колен пью святую твою
Родниковую правду, Беловежская пуща.

У высоких берёз своё сердце согрев,
Унесу я с собой в утешенье живущим
Твой заветный напев, чудотворный напев,
Беловежская пуща, Беловежская пуща.

Твой заветный напев, чудотворный напев,
Беловежская пуща, Беловежская пуща.


Another favorite Big Choir song,  "Kuznechik" -- "The Grasshopper."

3 comments:

a said...

Moving, nostalgic, great!
Thank you;
Fiodor

a said...

Moving, nostalgic, great!
Thank you;
Fiodor

Iulia Flame said...

I am glad you were able to share in my somewhat narcissistic moment of nostalgia -- but I do love this song. :)

Thank you for stopping by, Fiodor.

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