«Наша Таня громко плачет - уронила в речку...

"Our Tanya cries loudly - dropped a ball into the river ..."
In the interpretation of various poets.

Mayakovsky:

In this world
Nothing
Not forever,
So now
Matter or cry:
Straight from the shore
Got into the river
Tanya Girls
Ball.
Tears gush
From Tanya’s eyes.
Do not Cry!
Do not be
Wicked maiden!
Let's go get the water -
And get the ball.
Left!
Left!
Left!

Horace:

Tatyana weeps loudly, her grief is inconsolable;
Down from the flaming cheeks, tears flow like a river;
She indulged in girlish games in the garden -
The mischievous ball could not be held in thin fingers;
The jumped horse jumped, rushed down the slope,
From the edge of the cliff, slipping, fell into a stormy stream.
Dear maiden, do not cry, your loss is healed;
There is a command to the slaves to bring fresh water;
Stands, they are brave, accustomed to all work -
Feel free to swim, and the ball will return to you.

Block:

Tatyana sobbing inconsolably,
And a tear, like blood, is hot;
She got a heart wound
From a ball falling into a river.

Now sighs intermittently, then groans,
Remembering the old game.
Do not worry. Your ball won't drown
We will get it in the evening.

Krylov:

A damsel named Tatyana,
Thorough mind and body without flaw,
In the village days are hanging
I could not imagine myself leisure without a ball.
He’ll give it with his foot, then he will push it with his hand,
And, having played with him, he does not hear even halfheartedly.
The Lord didn’t save, there was a torn hole -
The playful ball fell into the abyss of water.
Crying, tears pouring unhappy Tatyana;
And the Kuzma water carrier - the one that is always half drunk -
Kartuz lured
And rivers tacos:
“Oh yeah, young lady!” This trouble is not grief.
Here I will harness Sivka, and soon after the water
I rush to jump.
The hook is my oster, my bucket is spacious -
From the river I skillfully and nimbly
I’ll get the ball. ”
Moral: simple water carriers are not so simple.
Who knows a lot about water, that quenches tears.

Yesenin

Tanyusha was good, she wasn’t more beautiful in the village,
A red ruffle on white sundress on the hem.
At the ravine for wattle walks Tanya in the evening,
And kicks the ball with his foot - he loves a strange game.

A guy came out, bowed his curly head:
"Allow me, Tatyana, to kick his foot too?"
She turned pale, like a shroud, cold like dew.
With a murderous snake, her scythe developed.

"Oh you blue-eyed guy, no offense I'll say
I kicked him, but now I can’t find it. "
"Don’t be sad, my Tanya, apparently, the ball went down,
if you love me, I will immediately dive after him. "

Lermontov

A lonely white ball
in the fog of a blue river -
ran away from Tanya near
left his native coast ...

Waves play - the wind blows
and Tanya cries and screams
she stubbornly searches for her ball
after him runs along the shore.

Under it a stream of brighter blue
above it is a ray of golden sun ...
And he, rebellious, asks for the storm
as if there is peace in the storms!

Pushkin

Tatyana, dear Tatyana!
With you now I pour tears:
deep and foggy river
his wonderful toy
accidentally dropped from the bridge ...
Oh how you loved this ball!
You cry bitterly and call ...
Do not Cry! You will find your ball
he won’t drown in a stormy river,
because the ball is not a stone, not a log,
he will not sink to the bottom,
its seething stream drives
flowing through a meadow through a forest
to the dam of a nearby hydroelectric station.

Japanese version:

Tanya-chan lost her face
Crying about a ball rolling in a pond.
Pull yourself together, the daughter of a samurai.