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This is a very well known in Poland poem by French medieval poet François Villon. Soviet poet Bulat Okudzhava translated it into Russian and performed it in 1970s. Translations: Polish: Modlitwa Francois Villona Dopóki nam Ziemia kręci się, dopóki jest tak czy siak, Panie, ofiaruj każdemu z nas, czego mu w życiu brak: mędrca obdaruj głową, tchórzowi dać konia chciej, sypnij grosza szczęściarzom... i mnie w opiece swej miej. Dopóki Ziemia obraca się, o Panie nasz, na Twój znak tym, którzy pragną władzy, niech władza ta pójdzie w smak, daj szczodrobliwym odetchnąć, raz niech zapłacą mniej, daj Kainowi skruchę... I mnie w opiece swej miej. Ja wiem, że Ty wszystko możesz, ja wierzę w Twą moc i gest, jak wierzy zabity żołnierz, że w siódmym niebie jest, jak zmysł każdy chłonie z wiarą Twój ledwie słyszalny głos, jak wszyscy wierzymy w Ciebie, nie wiedząc, co niesie los. Panie zielonooki, mój Boże jedyny, spraw - dopóki nam Ziemia toczy się, zdumiona obrotem spraw, dopóki czasu i prochu wciąż jeszcze wystarcza jej - daj każdemu po trochu... I mnie w opiece swej miej. (Andrzej Mandalian) Russian: Молитва Франсуа Вийона Пока Земля ещё вертится, пока еще ярок свет, Господи, дай же ты каждому, чего у него нет: умному дай голову, трусливому дай коня, дай счастливому денег... И не забудь про меня. Пока Земля ещё вертится - Господи, твоя власть!- дай рвущемуся к власти навластвоваться всласть, дай передышку щедрому, хоть до исхода дня. Каину дай раскаяние... И не забудь про меня. Я знаю: ты все умеешь, я верую в мудрость твою, как верит солдат убитый, что он проживает в раю, как верит каждое ухо тихим речам твоим, как веруем и мы сами, не ведая, что творим! Господи мой Боже, зеленоглазый мой! Пока Земля еще вертится, и это ей странно самой, пока ей еще хватает времени и огня, дай же ты всем понемногу... И не забудь про меня. English: Prayer Of François Villon As long as the Earth is running, As long You shed the light, My Lord could you give everybody Whatever they've missed in their lives? Give some sense to a Wise man. Give to a Coward wild horse. Let Happy man have some money. And, please, don't forget humbly yours. As long as the Earth keeps running, Almighty, as is your will, Give to the Yearning for power To rule as much as he will. Give a break to the Generous. Before the end of day falls. Grant repentance to Cain. And, please, don't forget humbly yours. I know, you are omnipotent. I've faith in the wisdom of Yours. Like does every murdered soldier Believe he's in Heaven at worst. As truly has faith every being That all that You whisper is true, As we go on believing, Not knowing what we do. O Lord, oh my Lord, Almighty, Your eyes are hazel and clear, As long as the Earth is still running, And even for her it's so weird... As long as there is still enough of The Fire and Time in the world, Bless, would you please, everybody. And please don't forget humbly yours. Author of the poem: Francois Villon, translation Bułat Okudżawa, Polish translation Andrzej Mandalian, English translation Lyrics: 15th century, music 20th century. Original artist: Bulat Okudzhava
Original performance by this poet Булат Окуджава - Молитва th-cam.com/video/yCnlaBJRKcE/w-d-xo.html Bułat Szałwowicz Okudżawa (born May 9, 1924 in Moscow, died June 12, 1997 in Paris) - Russian bard, poet, prose writer, composer of ballads, lyrical and satirical songs, playwright. Bulat Okudżawa was the son of an Armenian woman and a Georgian. The father (the first secretary of the local party committee in Nizhny Tagil) was shot in 1937, while the mother (acting as the Rajkom's secretary) was sentenced to ten years in the camp (she spent a total of 18 years in a labor camp). Together with his brother, he grew up with his grandmother - in difficult times and in difficult living conditions. After the period of the great purge, marked by the stigma of the enemy of the people, he tried to gain the trust of the authorities. During World War II, at the age of 18, he left his studies and took up military service as a volunteer. In 1942 he was sent to the front. He was injured several times. After the end of the war, he was a manual worker, completed extramural studies in other classes of high school, and began studies at the philology department of the University of Tbilisi. It was then that the Lenin's banner (Ленинское знамя) made its debut in the newspaper. In 1950, after graduation, he started working as a teacher in a village school near Kaluga (Kaluga). On the wave of the thaw, he joined the party. After his mother's return in 1956 (she was rehabilitated), he returned to Moscow. There, too, first with friends, then in public, he began to sing his poems, accompanying himself on the guitar. From that moment on, as Okudzhava gained popularity, the party apparatus looked at his works with growing disapproval, while he increasingly distanced himself from his earlier views. Unable to speak directly about current affairs, he wrote historical novels (most often set in the nineteenth century), the heroes of which were romantic rebels opposing tyranny. They fought in a losing position, being aware of the hopelessness of their fate. Despite this, they did not hesitate to sacrifice their lives for the sake of their values. He gained the greatest fame as a poet and bard. Initially, his poems were available only in second circulation, duplicated in samizdata, only later the artist had the opportunity to officially perform his works. Okudzhava's poetry is dominated by a climate of reflection, sadness and reflection on human fate. War is a frequent motive, but it is usually only a background for existential deliberations, because the most important topic is the tragedy of an individual struggling with life. The poet's emotional bond with Arbat, the old Moscow street where he lived as a child, is also noticeable in the works. It has become a symbol unambiguously identified with Okudzhava. A gray, typical place, full of everyday problems of ordinary people, and at the same time full of secrets. He was closely related to Agnieszka Osiecka. In 1994, he was awarded the Russian Booker Prize. On his deathbed, according to some reports, he expressed a wish and was baptized, according to others - he was baptized in a state of unconsciousness by his wife, with the name Ioann. In Poland, the works of Okudżawa, especially his songs, were very popular. Okudżawa's works were translated into Polish by, among others Witold Dąbrowski, Andrzej Drawicz, Ziemowit Fedecki, Andrzej Mandalian and Wiktor Woroszylski. Jacek Kaczmarski dedicated his song Pożegnanie Okudżawa to him, and Andrzej Sikorowski, Żal za Bułatem O., in the atmosphere of Bułat's poetry.
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P.S: If you have any suggestions, please post the link of the video, so I can find it easily. For copyright reasons, I prefer to listen live music. Thank you for you for understanding.
❤❤❤
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Slava Ukrainie. Greeting from Poland
This is a very well known in Poland poem by French medieval poet François Villon. Soviet poet Bulat Okudzhava translated it into Russian and performed it in 1970s.
Translations:
Polish:
Modlitwa Francois Villona
Dopóki nam Ziemia kręci się,
dopóki jest tak czy siak,
Panie, ofiaruj każdemu z nas,
czego mu w życiu brak:
mędrca obdaruj głową,
tchórzowi dać konia chciej,
sypnij grosza szczęściarzom...
i mnie w opiece swej miej.
Dopóki Ziemia obraca się,
o Panie nasz, na Twój znak
tym, którzy pragną władzy,
niech władza ta pójdzie w smak,
daj szczodrobliwym odetchnąć,
raz niech zapłacą mniej,
daj Kainowi skruchę...
I mnie w opiece swej miej.
Ja wiem, że Ty wszystko możesz,
ja wierzę w Twą moc i gest,
jak wierzy zabity żołnierz,
że w siódmym niebie jest,
jak zmysł każdy chłonie z wiarą
Twój ledwie słyszalny głos,
jak wszyscy wierzymy w Ciebie,
nie wiedząc, co niesie los.
Panie zielonooki,
mój Boże jedyny, spraw -
dopóki nam Ziemia toczy się,
zdumiona obrotem spraw,
dopóki czasu i prochu
wciąż jeszcze wystarcza jej -
daj każdemu po trochu...
I mnie w opiece swej miej.
(Andrzej Mandalian)
Russian:
Молитва Франсуа Вийона
Пока Земля ещё вертится,
пока еще ярок свет,
Господи, дай же ты каждому,
чего у него нет:
умному дай голову,
трусливому дай коня,
дай счастливому денег...
И не забудь про меня.
Пока Земля ещё вертится -
Господи, твоя власть!-
дай рвущемуся к власти
навластвоваться всласть,
дай передышку щедрому,
хоть до исхода дня.
Каину дай раскаяние...
И не забудь про меня.
Я знаю: ты все умеешь,
я верую в мудрость твою,
как верит солдат убитый,
что он проживает в раю,
как верит каждое ухо
тихим речам твоим,
как веруем и мы сами,
не ведая, что творим!
Господи мой Боже,
зеленоглазый мой!
Пока Земля еще вертится,
и это ей странно самой,
пока ей еще хватает
времени и огня,
дай же ты всем понемногу...
И не забудь про меня.
English:
Prayer Of François Villon
As long as the Earth is running,
As long You shed the light,
My Lord could you give everybody
Whatever they've missed in their lives?
Give some sense to a Wise man.
Give to a Coward wild horse.
Let Happy man have some money.
And, please, don't forget humbly yours.
As long as the Earth keeps running,
Almighty, as is your will,
Give to the Yearning for power
To rule as much as he will.
Give a break to the Generous.
Before the end of day falls.
Grant repentance to Cain.
And, please, don't forget humbly yours.
I know, you are omnipotent.
I've faith in the wisdom of Yours.
Like does every murdered soldier
Believe he's in Heaven at worst.
As truly has faith every being
That all that You whisper is true,
As we go on believing,
Not knowing what we do.
O Lord, oh my Lord, Almighty,
Your eyes are hazel and clear,
As long as the Earth is still running,
And even for her it's so weird...
As long as there is still enough of
The Fire and Time in the world,
Bless, would you please, everybody.
And please don't forget humbly yours.
Author of the poem:
Francois Villon, translation Bułat Okudżawa, Polish translation Andrzej Mandalian, English translation
Lyrics: 15th century, music 20th century.
Original artist: Bulat Okudzhava
Original performance by this poet
Булат Окуджава - Молитва
th-cam.com/video/yCnlaBJRKcE/w-d-xo.html
Bułat Szałwowicz Okudżawa (born May 9, 1924 in Moscow, died June 12, 1997 in Paris) - Russian bard, poet, prose writer, composer of ballads, lyrical and satirical songs, playwright.
Bulat Okudżawa was the son of an Armenian woman and a Georgian. The father (the first secretary of the local party committee in Nizhny Tagil) was shot in 1937, while the mother (acting as the Rajkom's secretary) was sentenced to ten years in the camp (she spent a total of 18 years in a labor camp). Together with his brother, he grew up with his grandmother - in difficult times and in difficult living conditions. After the period of the great purge, marked by the stigma of the enemy of the people, he tried to gain the trust of the authorities. During World War II, at the age of 18, he left his studies and took up military service as a volunteer. In 1942 he was sent to the front. He was injured several times. After the end of the war, he was a manual worker, completed extramural studies in other classes of high school, and began studies at the philology department of the University of Tbilisi. It was then that the Lenin's banner (Ленинское знамя) made its debut in the newspaper. In 1950, after graduation, he started working as a teacher in a village school near Kaluga (Kaluga). On the wave of the thaw, he joined the party. After his mother's return in 1956 (she was rehabilitated), he returned to Moscow. There, too, first with friends, then in public, he began to sing his poems, accompanying himself on the guitar.
From that moment on, as Okudzhava gained popularity, the party apparatus looked at his works with growing disapproval, while he increasingly distanced himself from his earlier views. Unable to speak directly about current affairs, he wrote historical novels (most often set in the nineteenth century), the heroes of which were romantic rebels opposing tyranny. They fought in a losing position, being aware of the hopelessness of their fate. Despite this, they did not hesitate to sacrifice their lives for the sake of their values.
He gained the greatest fame as a poet and bard. Initially, his poems were available only in second circulation, duplicated in samizdata, only later the artist had the opportunity to officially perform his works. Okudzhava's poetry is dominated by a climate of reflection, sadness and reflection on human fate. War is a frequent motive, but it is usually only a background for existential deliberations, because the most important topic is the tragedy of an individual struggling with life. The poet's emotional bond with Arbat, the old Moscow street where he lived as a child, is also noticeable in the works. It has become a symbol unambiguously identified with Okudzhava. A gray, typical place, full of everyday problems of ordinary people, and at the same time full of secrets. He was closely related to Agnieszka Osiecka.
In 1994, he was awarded the Russian Booker Prize.
On his deathbed, according to some reports, he expressed a wish and was baptized, according to others - he was baptized in a state of unconsciousness by his wife, with the name Ioann.
In Poland, the works of Okudżawa, especially his songs, were very popular. Okudżawa's works were translated into Polish by, among others Witold Dąbrowski, Andrzej Drawicz, Ziemowit Fedecki, Andrzej Mandalian and Wiktor Woroszylski. Jacek Kaczmarski dedicated his song Pożegnanie Okudżawa to him, and Andrzej Sikorowski, Żal za Bułatem O., in the atmosphere of Bułat's poetry.
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