Максим Трошин. Матушка пела... /Mommy was singing/

Из документального фильма о Максиме Трошине (Благотворительный фонд Артосъ 2002). Скачано с сайта http://russtv (dot)ru Матушка пела... Снова глаза закрываю несмело, Вспомнить пытаясь детство свое... Помнится только: матушка пела... Песней наполнено сердце мое. Зимами злыми над прорубью белой, В стылой воде полоская белье, Вся коченея, матушка пела. Песней наполнено детство мое. Больше она ничего не имела. Только свой голос. Свой - ножевой* Не было хлеба. Матушка пела, И оттого я остался живой. Рядом война полыхала и тлела. Сытым ходило одно воронье. Вдовы рыдали. Матушка пела. Песней наполнено детство мое. Минуло время, память немела. Но без войны я не прожил и дня. Все эти годы матушка пела. Это, должно, сохранило меня. Мы отнесли ее легкое тело На вековечное поле-жилье. Все мне казалось, - матушка пела. Песней наполнено сердце мое. Константин Скворцов *Максим поёт: “Чистый, родной“ A song, called “Matushka pela“ - “Mommy was singing“, lyrics are by a Russian poet Konstantin Skvortsov, music and performance is by Maxim Troshin, a Russian poet and a singer, who tragically died before his 17th birthday. Here is a very rough translation of lyrics. Note that the word “matushka“ in Russian is not fully equivalent to “mommy“ (“mamochka“ would be equivalent), it is somehow old-fashioned now, and has an extremely tender, caring and at the same time respectful connotation when is used as a form of adress to one’s mother. Mommy was singing. I’m closing by eyes again timidly, Trying to evoke memories of my childhood. I mostly remember mommy singing... My heart is filled with her song. In long wicked winters she would Rinse linen in cold water in an ice-hole. Growing numb with cold, she would sing. My childhood is filled with a song. She had nothing else - just her voice, pure and dear There wasn’t any bread to eat. But my mommy would sing, And that is what kept me alive. War was smouldering and blazing, Only vultures were fed up a full Widows were sobbing. Dear mother was singing. My childhood is filled with a song. Time went on, my memory was growing numb. But I never lived a day without a war going on. Through all these years mommy was singing, It must have kept me safe and alive. We carried her light body Into the eternal field to live, I was still hearing my dear mommy singing. My heart is filled with a song.