O you snowsleighs! Galloping horses!
By a devil were you devised.
As over the steppe you go coursing.
The sleigh bell laughs till it cries.
No barking of dogs, no moon showing,
For miles around waste lands unfold.
My wild crazy life, keep on going,
I’m not irretrievably old.
Sing, driver, to spite the night’s darkness —
If you wish, I shall sing with you too.
I’ll sing of a girl’s roguish glances,
I’ll sing of my jubilant youth.
I’d push back my cloth cap crazily,
Get ready and drive out the sleigh,
Then flop on the hay, lie there lazily —
And race off not leaving a trace.
Remember the way I would swagger.
In the quiet night hours I played
My sweet concertina and captured
The heart of many a maid.
All’s over. My hair is now thinner,
The horse dead, the yard is forlorn
And voiceless is my concertina,
Its powers of persuasion are gone.
But, warm still, my heart doesn’t languish,
Expanses of snow cheer my eyes
Because, mocking all that has vanished,
The sleigh bell laughs till it cries.
Эх вы, сани! А кони, кони!
Видно, черт их на землю принес.
В залихватском степном разгоне
Колокольчик хохочет до слез.
Ни луны, ни собачьего лая
В далеке, в стороне, в пустыре.
Поддержись, моя жизнь удалая,
Я еще не навек постарел.
Пой, ямщик, вперекор этой ночи,
Хочешь, сам я тебе подпою
Про лукавые девичьи очи,
Про веселую юность мою.
Эх, бывало, заломишь шапку,
Да заложишь в оглобли коня,
Да приляжешь на сена охапку,—
Вспоминай лишь, как звали меня.
И откуда бралась осанка,
А в полуночную тишину
Разговорчивая тальянка
Уговаривала не одну.
Все прошло. Поредел мой волос.
Конь издох, опустел наш двор.
Потеряла тальянка голос,
Разучившись вести разговор.
Но и все же душа не остыла,
Так приятны мне снег и мороз,
Потому что над всем, что было,
Колокольчик хохочет до слез.
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