B.Okudzhava: Musician played the violin… (Музыкант играл на скрипке…), by Rashpill

M u s i c i a n     p l a y e d     t h e     v i o l i n …

            Lyrics and music by B.Okudzhava
            Translation by Rashpill, 2010

When musician played the violin, I was looking in his eyes.
No, I wasn’t only watching – I was flying in the skies.
I can’t say I was relaxed, but I just tried to understand,
How can those splendid sounds be retrieved by those hands?

Out of tighten rough tendons on a little wooden piece,
From some kind of a fantasy, being served by violinist.
In addition, our soul Is not easy to ignite.
Why we have to be so careful with it, and so polite?

How happy is a home guided by the violin’s song
That is giving us a hope; all the rest will come along.
How happy instrument is on a shoulder where it lies,
Giving me a holy blessing – so I’m flying in the skies!

How happy is the man whose life is short and bow is sharp,
The musician made [a] campfire out of our own hearts.
And the soul, that’s for sure, being burnt to very core,
It is usually more merciful and righteous than before.