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Потаня - Где..
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Стихи: Дж.Р.Р.Толкиен, LotR 3:6, Арагорн (пер. В.Муpавьева)
Музыка: Потаня

Где ныне конь и конный?
Где рог его громко звучащий?
Где шлем его и кольчуга,
Где лик его горделивый?
Где сладкозвучная арфа
И костёр, высоко горящий?
Где весна, и зрелое лето,
И золотистая нива?

Отгремели горной грозою,
Отшумели степными ветрами,
Сгинули дни былые
В закатной тени за холмами.
С огнём отплясала радость,
И с дымом умчалось горе,
А невозвратное время
Не вернётся к нам из-за моря…

[ Оригинал ]

Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?
Poems: J.R.R. Tolkien, Lotr 3: 6, Aragorn (per. V. Mupaviev)
Music: Pota

Where is the horse now and horse?
Where is his horn loudly sounding?
Where is his helmet and chain mail,
Where is the face of his proud?
Where is a sweet -sounding harp
And a bonfire, highly burning?
Where is spring, and a mature summer,
And golden field?

The mountain thunderstorms died down,
They walked with the steppe winds,
The past days disappeared
In the tank shadow behind the hills.
With fire, joy was dancing,
And grief rushed with smoke,
And the irrevocable time
Will not return to us from behind the sea ...

[Original]

Were now the Horse and the Rider? Were is the horn that was blowing?
What is the Helm and the Hauberk, and the Bright Hair Flowing?
Were is the hand on the Harpstring, and the Red Fire Glowing?
What is the Spring and the Harvest and the Tall Corn Growing?
They Have Passed Like Rain on the Mountain, Like a Wind in the Meadow;
The Days have gone download in the West Behind The Hills Into Shadow.
Who Shall Gather The Smoke of the Dead Wood Burning,
Or Behold the Flowing Years from the Sea Returning?

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