Thursday, December 15, 2022

Night Is Still O'er Ancient Israel

 


New English words to the Russian Carol, Ночь тиха над Палестиной "Noch tikha nad Palestinoi"  ("Quiet Night Over Palestine")

You can see the original Russian version and
my line-by-line English translation here:  Ночь тиха над Палестиной


1.
Night is still o'er ancient Israel,
Earth is tired and slumbers on.
Mountains, forests, hills, and valleys—
Dark of night has hid them all.

2.
There in Bethlehem so wearied,
All the lights were finally out;
Only in remotest pastures,
Shepherds kept their night lookout.

3.
They knew nothing nor suspected;
So to pass the weary night,
Seated then they started talking,
With the comp'ny of firelight.

4.
Suddenly th'angelic voice came;
Trembling took the men with fear;
And in robes of snow-white brilliance,
[An] Angel of the Lord appeared.

5.
"Do not fear nor yet be anxious:
From the Lord in Heav'n Above,
Come I now with revelation
That your hearts rejoice in Love.

6.
"Mercy to the earth God sends now:
Christ, Himself, the Sovereign King.
Sinful earth He comes to ransom—
Gives Himself as offering!"
 
7.
(Repeat verse 1)
Night is still o'er ancient Israel,
Earth is tired and slumbers on.
Mountains, forests, hills, and valleys—
Dark of night has hid them all.
 
 
 
 
Listen to three versions of the original song sung in Russian:






Wednesday, December 14, 2022

The Angels Sing




New English words to the Russian Carol, В Ночном Саду "V Nochnom Sadu"  ("In the Night Garden")
Original words and music by Vladimir Shishkarev.

You can see the original Russian version and
my English translation here: В Ночном Саду (In the Night Garden).

Lead sheet is found below.


1.
In Bethlehem upon a lonely night,
  Jehovah sent His Son,
The little Babe, so helpless in our sight—
  Salvation then begun.
  
  Chorus--
    The Angels sing, announcing Christ the King,
       The Wonders of His Love.
    Now come and see this blessed mystery—
       Immanuel from Above.

2.
The shepherds kept their flocks in fields at night
   All seated on the ground.
The angel of the Lord caused them great fright,
   The glory shone around.
  
  Chorus--
    The Angels sing, all glory to the King,
       To God who reigns on high.
    And peace on earth, the notice of his birth,
       His favor giv'n hereby.

3.
At once the shepherds left their flocks and ran
   To see this glorious sight.
The Babe was wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid
   In manger on that night.
  
  Chorus--
    So let us sing, proclaiming Christ as King,
       The Wonders of His Love.
    Then go and tell that God with us does dwell—
       Immanuel from Above.
    


Listen to three versions of the original song sung in Russian:









Monday, December 5, 2022

Connection Refused




Jay stared at the stark wording on the screen.  He kept hoping that somehow against all odds, the result would be different.  Yet there the simple words appeared again:

     Could not connect to smtp.host (Connection refused)

He had already retried the application three times.  Yet in desparation, he pressed "connect" once again.

Still, the same forlorn results: Connection refused.

So much of society had become automated and interwired with electronic connections.  It had been so since the end of the Twentieth Century.  Jay had heard stories of what life was like before all this modern technology.  Old-timers, if given a chance, would regale the unsuspecting with tall tales of deprivation and great inconvenience in the era before instant communications.

But now!

Jay slapped the desk in frustration.

The interconnectivity has become increasingly sporadic.  Those in charge of the connections all pointed to a vague and mysterious threat that grew in complexity and depth, tying up the online connections thus multiplying the time it took to make a connection.  If a connection was made at all.

He had to get this information through to his reporting agency.  They were all counting on a timely brief of the situation under his care.  He looked at the clock.  He had five minutes before the information was due.

Again in desperation he pressed "connect" one more time.

Again the dispassionate wording came back on the screen: Connection refused.

Finally he pressed "print" then walked to the lone printer in his office.  Printers were a vestige of an ancient technology.  Nearly nothing was printed any more.  Everything was read on screens or electronic tablets or projected onto the field of vision within special interconnected glasses.  Printing anything was considered bad form, bad manners, and bad environmentally.

Yet, the nonconnectivity left him with no other choice.

He picked the paper up from the output tray then walked across the hallway to the reporting agency office with a minute to spare.



Sunday, August 28, 2022

The Sky Flamed Forth

 

Photo from Sherry Lynn, Louisiana Dreams & Beyond Photography

 The sky flamed forth with passion from the day:
  A streak of orange, emboldened dab of red,
  A dash of yellow at the center bled;
And coursing forth across the sky a splay
Of beauty, blush, and zeal amidst the gray
  Of threat'ning clouds in somber tincture spread
  A blanket for the day to lay its head
As twilight came and sunlight fled away.

So yearned my heart at close of daylight hour,
  When musing on the joys that lay behind
    There flashes forth a memory of "then"
The joy, the sorr'w, all kinds of sweet and sour—
  But hope arises, promises aligned!
    For Day shall come again: we look to "when"!

Saturday, June 4, 2022

Reginald's Announcement


Reginald finally had a smile as he went off to school.  For that, his mother was grateful.  The last three years had been tough for the whole family and especially Reggie.  Three new job locations for his father meant three new schools in as many years.  Each new dislocation brought new worries and new fears.  Each new school brought new challenges as well as small victories.

Reggie barely remembered the victories.  To his third grade mind, the challenges were always huge and barely surmountable.

Each new school brought a new group of classmate to meet.  And each new class had its own dynamics and interpersonal synergy.  The school that he came from had more than its share of dominant girls and bravado-filled boys.  He would have preferred to stay in a corner and not be noticed at all, except he was the new boy, the sudden center of attention as he joined the class mid year.  The alpha dogs and the queen bees all made it their business to ride rough shod over him, each deriving some pleasure out of climbing a nonexistent social ladder by placing the new boy lower.

Reggie didn't see it that way nor did he ever use such language to describe it.  The school nurse had talked with the lead teacher and then Reginald's parents, explaining that Reginald was a good student but he was far too passive and timid.  Reginald needed to exert himself without actually provoking a fight.

Reggie's father talked to him and encouraged him, and when they had to move yet once again, his father made sure that Reginald started the school year in the new school with everybody else.  That seemed to help a little.  By the end of October Reggie told his mother that Freddie was his friend.

Those simple words brought great joy to his mother.  She noticed that Reggie began first not dreading school, then actually looking forward to going most days.

"Mom, Mrs. Snyder is so cool," he would begin and then proceed to explain what new lesson or demonstration or event his third grade teacher  had done that day.

Usually.  But not every day.  There were some days that he had a long face and reported that some of his classmates were jerks.  "They're stupid!" he would add.  Reggie hated when his classmates acted up in class.  It made the teacher angry and it also meant that the special things that she would do were not done.  It also meant that the whole class suffered under some form of the discipline whether it be loss of recess or held in at lunch.  But what bothered him the most was the loss of learning and seeing the cool things that Mrs. Snyder might have shown them.

Reggie was far too shy to express any of that to anyone except his parents and even then it was only obliquely inferred.  His mother became a master at understanding things that he felt or thought.  She was able to give words to the deep insights that he only vaguely grasped.

His mother was very surprised, however, at his response when they broke the news to him that they would have to make one more move.

"When?" was all that he initially asked.

"We'll leave the week before Christmas and then be in our new place in time for the start of school after the new year," his father replied.

"Then I can get something for Mrs. Snyder?" Reggie asked.

"Yes, that would be a wonderful thing," his mother answered.

Within a week, Reggie knew what he wanted to give Mrs. Snyder.  He and his mother planned it, shopped for it, wrapped it, then carefully set it to one side.  Reggie knew that he would give it to her on his last day of school.  He was adamant with his parents that they not tell the school that he was leaving yet because he hated the fuss and attention that was given him the other times he left mid year.

Reggie counted off the days until he would tell Mrs. Snyder himself that he was leaving and that he would miss her.

Finally the his last Friday came and he was filled with anticipation.  No one knew the big news yet.  He was going to announce it.  He was going to leave in a bit of style this time—not bedraggled and tail-between-his-legs like he had felt before.

He wanted to make the announcement in the afternoon so he would not have as much time dealing with the sudden attention his way.  He planned it out and reasoned that this would be the easiest.  No, he finally admitted, easiest would be to say nothing and just leave.

All through morning recess he toyed with the idea of letting Freddie know secretly, but he decided not to.  At lunch he wondered if he should just quietly let Mrs. Snyder know and give the gift to her then.  He realized that he couldn't do that because the gift was in his backpack and that was in the locked classroom.

So he fell back on his original plan.  He would make the announcement and give the gift  shortly before school was out.

The afternoon after the lunch period, however, was particularly vexing.  Tommy Jones and Max Grundy decided that playing paper football between their desks would be better than listening to Mrs. Snyder explain the art project.  Sally Higgins sat near Betty Park showing off her new pencil case which had a mirror on the inside of the top.  Several other students were either watching the two pairs or talking amongst themselves.

Reggie could see that Mrs. Snyder was trying hard to keep the class in line but joy had disappeared from her expression.

Suddenly Tommy made a loud noise as his paper football made a goal over Max's fingers.  Mrs. Snyder spun around.

"That's it," she yelled.  "Put your papers away.  No more talking for the rest of the day."

The class immediately quieted.

"If there's any more noise from anyone, I will hold you five minutes after school is out," she went on.

Her voice was filled with righteous anger.  Her eyes glowered, back and forth across the classroom.  Reggie noticed that Max had quickly hidden the paper football out of sight.  Sally quietly hid her new pencil case within the depths of her desk.

They class sat silently staring forward for at least fifteen minutes.  Mrs. Snyder had not moved.  All eyes were on her.  At least they were mostly on her, because a few glanced at the clock.  Reggie also glanced at the clock seeing that his time was running short.  There was less than fifteen minutes now before the end of school  Only fifteen minutes left to announce his leaving.  A mere fifteen minutes in which he could tell Mrs. Snyder just how much she meant to him.

Maybe he could wait until a couple minutes before the end.  He bided his time and carefully slipped the gift from his backpack and placed it in the shelf of his desk.  He thought about how perfect a gift it would be.  He knew that Mrs. Snyder loved coffee.  She talked about it sometimes and mentioned that the teachers actually had a coffee pot in their teacher's room.  That was a surprising piece of information to him and probably others in his class.  No student had ever been in that secret room—at least no student from the lower grades.  Once he had accidentally caught a fleeting glimpse into that sacrosanct room as he walked to the office.  All he saw were various chairs as would be found in his living room with teachers seated around, laughing.  He did see Mrs. Snyder holding what looked to be an old mug.

That is why he had his mother help him pick out a new coffee mug.  It was emblazoned with the words, "My Favorite Teacher!" along with a picture of an apple.  He didn't care if the apple was there or not, but he was really happy with the words.

Suddenly Max brought out the paper football and decided to "kick" it with his finger toward Tommy.  He missed and the paper football flew past several students toward Mrs. Snyder's desk.  She spun around at the noise of it hitting the floor.  Her eyes blazed with fire.

"Who threw this?" she asked in deadly, measured words.

No one answered even though more than half of the class knew.

Reggie's heart sank, knowing his opportunity was fast slipping away.  The clock showed less than two minutes left.

"You will tell me who threw this," Mrs. Snyder said, "or you will all stay late after the bell."

Reggie knew his time was gone.  He felt an absolute driving impetus to deliver both his message and his gift.  She needed something nice to make her day better.  He raised his hand.

"Yes, Reginald?" Mrs. Snyder said.

"I have an announcement," he began.

"This is not the time for announcements," Mrs. Snyder quickly cut him off.  "I am dealing with a class that is rude and does not care at all about learning.  We don't have time for your special announcements today."

Reggie had never felt the brunt of her anger before.  He knew that she was upset, and rightly so.  But it wasn't his fault.  He was suffering just as much as she was because those jerks were keeping him from the things that he loved.  He thought that somehow a nice gesture was what she needed then.

He felt his eyes begin to smart and sting.

"No," he chided himself.  "No crying."

The clock read only a half minute before school would be out.  His mother and father would be waiting for him to take him away to a new house and then a new school.

He stood up.  He knew that he had to leave.  His parents were waiting for him.

"Reginald, you sit right back down now!" Mrs. Snyder barked at him.

"I'm leaving," he said.

He initially meant that he was leaving the school and that town and would never be back.  Then he realized that it meant that he could walk out and never come back.

"You sit right back down now!" She repeated louder.

He picked up his backpack from the back of his chair then snatched the gift from his desk.  The bell ending school sounded.  His actions had surprised the other students who normally would have been jostling to leave.

"I'm leaving, never coming back," he declared and walked to the coat rack to find his jacket.

"Get back here now!" Mrs. Snyder shouted.

"School's out," he answered.

He walked to the door and threw the gift into the trash can hard.  The sound of breaking ceramic pleased his anger.  He opened the door and left, not even turning around for one last glance.

The class sat still long after the door had slammed shut.  Finally Mrs. Snyder spoke.  "We will talk more about this on Monday.  Dismissed."

For the first time that year, the students quietly filed out of their desks to retrieve their coats.

The principal stopped by Mrs. Snyder's room some twenty minutes later and found her sitting at her desk.

"I just checked out Reginald," the principal began.  "His parents stopped by to announce that they were moving.  Today was his last day."  The principal stopped and looked carefully at Mrs. Snyder.  "Are you okay?"

She shook her head and pointed at pieces of a shattered mug that she had placed on her desk.  "He had an announcement to make."

 


Friday, May 13, 2022

Майский вальс. Весна 45 года — A May Waltz, Spring of the 45th Year





Youtube video


1. Spring in the forty-fifth year then,
Blue Danube was waiting for you.
Freedom for people of Europe
Bright sunny May delivered so true.
There in a safe Vienna plaza
The people all gathered around,
Our soldiers the guardians played songs on accordions
The Russian Waltz's cheery glad sound.


Chorus:
   Vienna remembers, and the Danube, and the Alps,
   All the springing and the singing that bright May.
   Heads were whirling with the twirling Russian Waltz.
   Hearts remember, never forget that fine day!


2. This soldier's fine waltz then sounded
Easy, inspired, and bold;
Vienna was spinning and singing,
As if Strauss was playing of old.
That solder so happy and smiling
His accordion heart-close and snug
As though this one man had seen Russian heartland
And gave Russian Volga a hug.


3. O'er beautiful ancient Vienna
The Waltz floated light on a wing,
Sometimes so tender then passionate,
Everyone enthralled by the spring.
Spring of the forty-fifth year!
How long the Blue Danube had sighed.
The soldier was playing and all Vienna swaying—
The Russian Waltz sung to the skies.

     translated by D. Benning, 13-May-22
-------------------------------------

Background as found on: https://text-pesni.com/aelb

"May Waltz" is a Soviet song about the Great Patriotic War, a finalist of the TV festival "Song of the Year — 1985". It was first broadcast on December 30, 1985, performed by People's Artist of Belarus, Honored Artist of the Russian Federation Yaroslav Evdokimov, accompanied by a variety symphony orchestra, conducted by Alexander Petukhov at the Dynamo Sports Palace, in the final concert of the All-Union Television Festival of Soviet Song "Song of the Year" in 1985.

Music: Igor Mikhailovich Luchenok — Soviet and Belarusian composer, teacher. People's Artist of the USSR.

Words: Mikhail Yasen is a Soviet Belarusian poet-songwriter.




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