Dmitri Hvorostovsky (1962-2017)

“I opened the window”

P. I. Tchaikovsky and Graf Konstantin Romanoff

I opened the window, it became stiflingly unbearable,
I knelt down before him.
And my face smelled nightly spring
The fragrant breath of lilac.
And somewhere in the distance, a nightingale sang wonderfully,
I listened to him with a deep sadness,
And with the anguish, I thought of my homeland,
I thought about my distant homeland,
Where the native nightingale sings the native song
And not knowing earthly afflictions –
Pours his singing the whole night long
Over the fragrant twig of lilac.

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