Lullaby

Lullaby
/My apologies: I posted this in the wrong section by mistake. Unfortunately, I can neither move nor delete it./

A lullaby from the music for Max Dalin’s novel “The Time of the Unseelie.”
Composer: Alexander Khomenko. Lyrics by Max Dalin. Sung by Anton Yachmenev.

Lerik opened the piano lid and played a few chords. The piano sounded muffled, as if it had a cold. Lerik wrinkled his nose and frowned, but didn’t close the lid. He sat lost in thought, running his fingers over the keys, and a melody seemed to weave itself together on its own.
And he began to sing under his breath:

“Try to fall asleep. Don’t look at me, don’t look.
If only the light could return to your soul, and the minutes stretch on until dawn.
Thoughts the color of lead, ashes of a spring that never came,
Faceless darkness sowing fear without end,
Cruel memory has wounded your dreams.”

It was a very sad and strange romance. I had never heard it before, but Gleiza knew it and joined in, tenderly and brightly:

“Hush-a-bye! Forget all the sorrows of the earth.
Hush-a-bye! Don’t give your soul away to memory.
Out of misfortune and anguish (the heavens are so near),
Bloom like a star in the blue abyss.”

After that they sang together:

“You would have risen to the sky, but the mists cannot bear your steps.
The air is deadly heavy, and hopes are empty and meager.
If only the light could return to your soul, lest we forget how to breathe.
Try to fall asleep, your road is not yet ended,
The soul will rise again together with faith.”

By the finale Rosher had joined them. His face looked as though he were singing either a spell or a lullaby:

“Hush-a-bye! Forget all the sorrows of the earth.
Hush-a-bye! Let your sleep brim over with love and warmth.
Out of misfortune and anguish (the heavens are so near),
Bloom like a star in the blue abyss.”

“Wonderful!” I said admiringly when they fell silent. “You sing wonderfully. You could go on the radio, like real performers.”

“By the way,” said Rosher, “where did you, Your Highnesses, learn a forbidden little song?”

The Highnesses were astonished to the depths of their souls.

“Why would it be forbidden?” Lerik snorted. “Father has a cylinder with the recording. He likes it, we used to sing it to him…”

“Otherworldly creatures, aren’t they, Their Highnesses?” Rosher asked me. “And the Sovereign is no better. The whole Holy Land knows, except them.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Guardsmen know forbidden songs by heart and sing them at the risk of a heresy charge? Looks like I’m the most virtuous one here, since I’m hearing it for the first time. And I don’t get what’s in it that deserves a ban.”

“Come on, guys, there was such a scandal… I thought everyone had heard. Ilenga of the House of Quiet Autumn, you know, Ilenga, the Fox of the Bright Grove, they say she sang this beauty at a concert without the censors’ permission. And it’s dedicated to some poet from before the war, who was put away for godlessness and treason for twenty years without rights. Ilenga disappeared too, after that: the radio never plays her, no word of any concerts… at best, she’s been banned from performing in public.”

Max Dalin, “The Time of the Unseelie.” Translated by Claude.

Edited 1 hour ago1 hr by Alexx