Это всё равно что спрашивать, люблю я природу или нет*.
люблю ли я Сергея Рахманинова?
It’s like asking whether I love nature or not*. Все любят природу. А если кто-то говорит, что не любит природу, то хочется напомнить этому человеку о том1, что без деревьев, без ветра, без воздушных потоков he won’t be able to breathe, without water in stream or the pond — не сможет жить.
Так как же это не любить?2 You might think you don’t, but that’s only until it’s taken away from you.
Так же, как моя любовь к природе, влечение к музыке Рахманинова всегда было каким-то безнадёжным3. Perhaps you’ve experienced that feeling of piercing tenderness when witnessing a breathtaking sunset. Это ощущение всегда связано с щемящей грустью4, ибо вы никогда не обнимете этот закат5, не прижмёте его к сердцу, не укутаете и не унесёте6. The sun is about to disappear and that’s it. You can hold on to the memory of that magical moment, and it may stay with you forever, but even so, the sense of sorrow never quite goes away. Yet it will reappear.
Сам Сергей Рахманинов пишет о природе так:
In every Russian person, there is a pull toward the land, stronger than in any other nation. <…> In the Russian people’s thoughts about the land, there is a longing for peace, for silence, for the contemplation of the nature that surrounds them — and, in part, a desire for seclusion, for solitude. It seems to me that every Russian has something of a hermit in them7.
That feeling is brilliantly expressed in one of Rachmaninoff’s finest romances. This particular piece is set to a poem by Galina Galina, who was far from being one of the best poets of her time, though she was a respectable woman. Её стихи «разносили» в пух и прах8.
А Сергей Рахманинов любил её, писал романсы на её стихи. At the same time, he never set to music the poems of already well-known poets like Akhmatova or Tsvetaeva. He chose what spoke to him personally. Remember “he was drawn to the theme of solitude, yearning to capture it in his music?”
Let’s read the text of the poem by Galina Galina, to which Rachmaninoff composed his romance “How Fair This Spot” («Здесь хорошо»):
Здесь хорошо…
Взгляни, вдали огнём горит река;
Цветным ковром луга легли,
Белеют облака.
Здесь нет людей…
Здесь тишина…
Здесь только Бог да я.
Цветы, да старая сосна,
Да ты, мечта моя!9
Мягко говоря, не самого высокого полёта стихи10. And now let’s listen to the music Rachmaninoff composed to accompany this text.
Oh oh, it’s high time I went to the country again.
The boundless fields of wheat under a scorched, golden sun,
The whisper of wind weaving through sparse woods,
The heady scent of freshly cut grass —
I have longed for this for so long.
Russians… I read somewhere that they used to go to the country to let off steam, or work in the vegetable garden or look after cows, horses, birds etc. anything but not to scream at each other but have an open talk afterwards. In Sweden or France, people used to bottle up their emotions instead. And it sounds quite logical when now you talk to each nations’s individual and see the way they talk to strangers. Russian tend to give an elaborate answer to the question “How are you?” unlike Americans, who don’t really expect anyone to listen. Apparently, we do listen. Otherwise, why would we be so open about our personal lives?
What do you think about this idea?
Unspoken feelings are a sign of insecurity. Don’t let them turn into stones in your intestine. Help it to be digested. ;)
Take a moment, listen to you breath. Slow down. Ground yourself. You’re doing fine. The future doesn’t begin until you’re fully present in the now.
спасибо, что уделил(а) время!
then you feel like reminding this person about the fact;
in Russian the next word is in Dative case, because you transmit a message to a receive for a reason.
So how can you not love it?
Just like my love for nature, my attraction to Rachmaninoff’s music has always felt somehow hopeless.
aching sadness
because you can never embrace that sunset
never press it to your heart, never wrap it up and carry it with you
«В каждом русском есть тяга к земле, больше, чем у какой-либо другой нации. <…> В мыслях русских людей о земле есть какое-то стремление к покою, к тишине, к любованию природой, среди которой он живёт, и отчасти стремление к замкнутости, к одиночеству. Мне кажется, в каждом русском человеке есть что-то от отшельника».
Her poetry was harshly criticized
How fair this spot... Just look, there in the distance
The river is ablaze;
The meadows are like a radiant carpet,
And the clouds are white.
There is nobody here… here silence reigns…
Here I am alone with God.
And the flowers, and the old pine tree,
And you, my dream!… (source)
To put it mildly, the poem is not exactly of the highest literary caliber.