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התרגומים לאנגלית נעשו באמצעות המנוע "מתרגם גוגל" והתרגום הועתק לאתר בצורתו המקורית ללא עריכה נוספת
The English translations were done using the "Google Translate" engine and the translations were copied to the site in their original form without further editing.
The „Last Sunday" - erroneously called „THAT Last Sunday" -- was composed by the Polish composer Jerzy Petersburski in 1936. It is a nostalgic tango with lyrics by Zenon Friedwald describing the final meeting of former lovers who are parting. The Polish title was: "To Ostatnia Niedziela" ("The Last Sunday"). The song was extremely popular and was performed by numerous artists (the best known performance by the pre-war Polish singer Mieczysław Fogg). Along the way, it first gained the nick-name of "Suicide Tango" due to its sad lyric (although, the real „suicie song" in the night restaurants of Warsaw - where the shoot in the brow at 12 at night was not an unusual happening - was in 1930s another sad „Sunday": the „Gloomy Sunday" (in Polish: „Smutna niedziela") by a Hungarian composer Rezső Seress. Soon, it became an international hit; in the US sung by Billie Holiday. But Polish „Last Sunday" also had a terribly sad fate. During World War II In the concentrations camps it was often played while Jewish prisoners were led to the gas chambers and ovens, to be executed. During World War II its Russian version was prepared by Iosif Alveg and performed by Leonid Utyosov under the title of "Weary Sun" (Russian: "Utomlyennoye Solntse"). After World War II, the song remained largely successful and appeared in a number of films, including Yuriy Norshteyn's 1979 "Tale of Tales" (considered by many international critics to be the greatest animated film ever made), the award-winning Krzysztof Kieślowski's "White" (1994) and Nikita Mikhalkov's "Burnt by the Sun" of the same year. The Russian title of the song also became the name-sake for the latter film and -- as the result - for even more educated and worldly Russians, nowadays, it is considered as the „Russian national song"! Recording: Alexandr Cfasman Orkestr, Russian vocal refrain by Pavel Mihailov - Utomlennoe Solnce (J.Petersburski), Noginskij Zawod 1932
Three Colors: White (1994). Plot. Summaries: After his wife divorces him, a Polish immigrant plots to get even with her. Synopsis. After opening with a brief, seemingly irrelevant scene of a suitcase on an airport carousel, the story quickly focuses on a Paris divorce court where Polish immigrant Karol Karol (Zbigniew Zamachowski) is pleading with the judge (the same legal proceedings that Juliette Binoche's character Julie briefly stumbled upon in the previous film 'Blue'. Despite his difficulty in understanding French, Karol is made to understand that his French wife Dominique (Julie Delpy) does not love him. The grounds for divorce are humiliating: Karol was unable to consummate the marriage. Along with his wife, he loses his means of support (a beauty salon they jointly owned), his legal residency in France, and the rest of his cash in a series of mishaps, and is soon a beggar living on the streets. He only retains a 2-franc coin that he got as change from the phone while trying to speak with his now ex-wife. In a Paris Métro station, performing songs for spare change, Karol meets and is befriended by another Pole, Mikoaj (Janusz Gajos). While Karol has lost his wife and his property, Mikoaj is married and successful, he offers Karol a job consisting of killing someone who wants to be dead but does not have enough courage to do it himself. Through a hazardous scheme, Mikoaj helps him return to Poland hidden in the suitcase shown at the beginning of the film, which is later stolen by employees at the airport. The airport thieves, eager to find something valuable inside their stolen trunk, are angry when they open it and they find Karol inside. The thieves beat up Karol and leave him behind in a nearby garbage dump. Despite his mishap, Karol returns to working as a hairdresser with his brother (Jerzy Stuhr) whom he now moves in with. After a while, Karol, no longer content to working at his brother's salon, quits his job and sets up to make himself a pot of cash in newly capitalist Poland. Karol takes another job as as a bodyguard in a seemingly innocent cash exchange office. Mikoaj meets Karol in a Warsaw Metro tunnel for the execution of the "suicide", it turns out to be that Mikoaj is the intended victim and asks Karol to kill him. Karol shoots a blank into Mikoaj's chest and asks him if he really wants to go through with it as the next bullet is real. Mikoaj refuses and is able to feel alive again. Using his position as a deceptively foolish bodyguard, Karol spies on his bosses and discovers their scheme to purchase different pieces of land that they knew were going to be targeted by big companies for development and resell for large profits. Karol beats them to it, and then tells his ex-bosses that if they kill him all his estate shall go to the Catholic Church, and they are therefore forced to purchase all the land from him. With the money he gained from this scheme and with the payment from Mikoaj, the two go into business (of a vaguely defined but possibly illegal nature) together. Karol becomes ruthlessly ambitious, focusing his energies on money-making schemes while learning to speak French and brooding over his wife's abandonment. He uses his new financial influence in a world where, as several characters observe, "you can buy anything" to execute a complex scheme to first win back Dominique, and then destroy her life. Karol takes his revenge against his ex-wife by faking his own death after which she shows up for his funeral. Karol then sneaks into her hotel room and has sex with her to prove his potency again. Then afterwords, Dominique is arrested and imprisoned for his 'murder'. The final image of the film shows Karol secretly visiting his wife in prison and staring at Dominique through the window of her prison cell. Karol then suddenly feels ashamed at himself for this revenge plot against his wife and openly cries...realizing that he must finally let go of her in order to move on with his own life.
Tale of Tales (Russian: Сказка сказок, Skazka skazok) is a 1979 Soviet/Russian animated film directed by Yuri Norstein and produced by the Soyuzmultfilm studio in Moscow. It has won numerous awards, has been acclaimed by critics and other animators, and has received the title of greatest animated film of all time in various polls. It has been the subject of a 2005 book by Clare Kitson titled Yuri Norstein and Tale of Tales: An Animator's Journey. Plot. Tale of Tales, like Tarkovsky's Mirror, attempts to structure itself like a human memory. Memories are not recalled in neat chronological order; instead, they are recalled by the association of one thing with another, which means that any attempt to put memory on film cannot be told like a conventional narrative. The film is thus made up of a series of related sequences whose scenes are interspersed between each other. One of the primary themes involves war, with particular emphasis on the enormous losses the Soviet Union suffered on the Eastern Front during World War II. Several recurring characters and their interactions make up a large part of the film, such as the poet, the little girl and the bull, the little boy and the crows, the dancers and the soldiers, and especially the little grey wolf (Russian: се́ренький волчо́к, syeryenkiy volchok). Another symbol connecting nearly all of these different themes are green apples (which may symbolize life, hope, or potential). Yuri Norstein wrote in Iskusstvo Kino magazine that the film is "about simple concepts that give you the strength to live. In addition to the original score composed by Mikhail Meyerovich, this film makes use of several other pieces of music. Excerpts from works by Bach (notably the E flat minor Prelude BWV 853 (from The Well-Tempered Clavier)) and Mozart (the Andante second movement from Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, K41) are used, and the World War II era tango Weary Sun, written by Jerzy Petersburski, features prominently. However, the most important musical inspiration is the following traditional Russian lullaby, which is included in the film in both instrumental and vocal form.
Three Colours: White. (French: Trois couleurs: Blanc, Polish: Trzy kolory. Biały) is a 1994 French-Polish drama film co-written, produced, and directed by Krzysztof Kieślowski. White is the second in the Three Colours trilogy, themed on the French Revolutionary ideals, following Blue and preceding Red. The film was selected as the Polish entry for the Best Foreign Language Film at the 67th Academy Awards, but was not accepted as a nominee. White is about equality, with the film depicting Karol. Karol, a shy man who, after being left by his wife in humiliating circumstances in Paris, loses his money, his residency, and his friends. As a deeply ashamed beggar in Paris, Karol begins his effort to restore equality to his life through revenge. Plot. After opening with a brief, seemingly irrelevant scene of a suitcase on an airport carousel, the story quickly focuses on a Paris divorce court where Karol Karol (Zbigniew Zamachowski) is pleading with the judge-the same legal proceedings that Juliette Binoche's character briefly stumbled upon in Blue. The immigrant Karol, despite his difficulty in understanding French, is made to understand that his wife Dominique (Julie Delpy) does not love him. The grounds for divorce are humiliating: Karol was unable to consummate the marriage. Along with his wife, he loses his means of support (a beauty salon they jointly owned), his legal residency in France, and the rest of his cash in a series of mishaps, and soon becomes a beggar. He only retains a two franc coin. In a Paris Métro station, performing songs for spare change, Karol meets and is befriended by another Pole, Mikołaj (Janusz Gajos). While Karol has lost his wife and his property, Mikołaj is married and successful; he offers Karol a job-he would have to kill someone who wants to die but does not have enough courage to do it himself-but Karol rejects the job. Then from the street outside Dominique's window he sees the shadow of a man in her room next to her and calls her from a telephone booth at the station, only to learn that she's having sex with someone. Karol breaks down with utmost grief. Through a hazardous scheme, Mikołaj helps him return to Poland hidden in the suitcase shown at the beginning of the film, which is later stolen by employees at the airport. After discovering how poor he is, the dishonest airport employees beat him up and leave him. He returns to working as a hairdresser with his brother (Jerzy Stuhr). Karol takes on a job as a bodyguard in a seemingly innocent cash exchange office. Using his position as a deceptively foolish bodyguard, Karol spies on his bosses and discovers their scheme to purchase different pieces of land that they know are going to be targeted by big companies for development and resell for large profits. Karol beats them to it, and then tells his ex-bosses that if they kill him all his estate shall go to the church, and they are therefore forced to purchase all the land from him. Then he meets Mikołaj for the job he offered to him previously. Mikołaj meets Karol in a Warsaw Metro tunnel for the execution of the "suicide", it turns out that Mikołaj is the intended victim and asks Karol to kill him. Karol shoots a blank into Mikołaj's chest and asks him if he really wants to go through with it as the next bullet is real. Mikołaj refuses and is able to feel alive again. But he pays Karol the offered money saying that he earned it. With the money he has gained from this scheme and with the payment from Mikołaj, the two go into business (of a vaguely defined but possibly illegal nature) together. Karol becomes ruthlessly ambitious, focusing his energies on money-making schemes while learning French and brooding over his wife's abandonment. One night, he wakes up from sleep-he had been dreaming about Dominique-then he calls her, but she hangs up. Later, he uses his new financial influence in a world where, as several characters observe, "you can buy anything" to execute a complex scheme to first win back Dominique, and then destroy her life by faking his own death after which she is imprisoned for his 'murder'. The final scene in the film shows Karol staring at Dominique through the window of her prison cell, her gesturing to him that she wants to remarry him, and Karol starting to cry.
Tired Sun, or Last Sunday. History of one song. Author: Igor Belov Published: 11 Sept. 2018. It is difficult to find a person who has never heard the song "Burnt Sun", which has become one of the nostalgic symbols of the past century. However, few people know that this charming tango came to the USSR from Poland, where it was known under a different name and was sung in completely different words. Igor Belov tells how this great song appeared, which in Poland was called the "suicide tango", how it crossed the borders and began to live a new life, giving rise to many interpretations, but not losing its magnetism. Truly great art belongs to everyone and is therefore, to a certain extent, anonymous. If music or poetry "goes to the people", their popularity and significance can obscure the figures of the true creators of these masterpieces. But still, these people have names and personal destinies, as do those who helped their works to take root on the soil of another culture and become something very important and dear to this culture. A curious example of the “migration of a masterpiece” is the story of the famous Polish song “To ostatnia niedziela” (“Last Sunday”), the Russian version of which is called “Tired Sun”acquired a cult status in the USSR and is still strongly associated with that incredible and terrible era, smelling of gunpowder, leather sword belt, Red Moscow perfume, pre-war stuffiness, apples from a dacha near Moscow and solar dust on a gramophone record. Last Sunday. And it all started in Warsaw in 1936, when the languid sounds of tango sounded on the stages of popular cabarets and variety theaters - Morskie Oko, Qui Pro Quo, Mirage, Black Cat. One of the most sought-after creators of this "music of serene bliss" was the Polish composer and pianist Jerzy Petersburski , who was once blessed by Imre Kalman himself. Petersbursky had a rare talent - the pop songs he composed, although they belonged to a light, entertaining genre, at the same time they breathed such harmony and were so imbued with deep sensuality that they could compete with the works of serious composers. Zenon Friedwald, lyricist of the song "To ostatnia niedziela". He also had an amazing musical flair, and when the songwriter Zenon Friedwald showed Petersbursky the poem “Last Sunday” (“To ostatnia niedziela”), the musician realized that this could be made into a hit of the century. What was this song about? The text was written from the point of view of a young man whose girlfriend leaves for another, who - literally - is "richer and better." The young man resigned himself to the impending separation, but asks his beloved to spend at least one last Sunday with him: No, I will not erase the stigma of failure, here it is, the sad ending: the one who is prettier and richer than me, stole my happiness! I do not ask you for an explanation, but before you leave, give me just one more Sunday, and at least the grass will not grow there! Only one Sunday, and we will say goodbye forever, like rivers in full swing, that's the whole story. At least one Sunday, so as not to perish hope, smile at me, as before, for the last time. There are many Sundays ahead, but they are no longer on my way. At least one Sunday, my string of dreams, kissing the firebird, goodbye, sorry! Am I able to repel this attack, suffering at night and during the day? There is only one way out ...However, we will not talk about it. If only you were happy, dear, tender, like a lilac. Let me cope with the flour and before parting , give me this day. translated by Igor Belov. Having written a tango to these words, full of gentle lyricism and aching sadness, Jerzy Petersbursky gave the song to the famous Polish pop singer Mieczysław Fogg . Soon Fogg recorded this song in the studio, and the records began to sell out like hot cakes - the releasing company, Syrena-Elektro, barely had time to churn out additional pressings. The tango "To ostatnia niedziela" was very popular in pre-war Poland, it also sounded during the tragic days of the Warsaw Uprising - Mieczysław Fogg, a member of the anti-fascist underground, performed it for the rebels on the barricades and in hospitals. And Jerzy Petersbursky has written a lot of good songs since then (in particular, the famous composition "The Blue Handkerchief" ), but the song "To ostatnia niedziela" still remained a symbol of the era, like "Farewell of the Slav". Suicide Tango. Begging his ex-fiancee to spend one more, their last Sunday with him, the lyrical hero of the song of Petersbursky and Friedwald vaguely and a little coquettishly hinted that he could commit suicide: “There is only one way out ... However, let's not talk about him." This is probably why the song "Last Sunday " was called "tango of suicides" in Poland. By a strange coincidence, in the same 1936, an epidemic of suicides broke out in Hungary, connected, according to legend, with a song that had a very similar name - "Gloomy Sunday" ("Szomorú vasárnap"). This melancholy and sad tango with a depressive aura was written three years earlier by the pianist of one of the Budapest restaurants, Rezho Sheres, to the words of the crime reporter Laszlo Javor. The "Song of the Hungarian Suicides" gained international fame under the name "Gloomy Sunday" (performed by Billy Holiday, Mel Tormé, Paul Robeson, Serge Gainsbourg - you can't count them all) and is considered the most depressing song in the world - it has been in Hungary and the UK for many decades was simply banned for promoting suicide. Krzysztof Varga, a well-known Polish writer of Hungarian origin, on the pages of his story "Turula Goulash" wrote about the authors of the "Gloomy Sunday" tango and the paradoxical effect produced by their creation: By God, it was a duo of first-class killers. No Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot, even with such clear evidence, could prove their guilt in this ideal crime committed with the help of music. The sounds of the piano turned out to be a worse poison than cyanide and arsenic combined. (...) What was so hypnotic in this song with a simple melody and rather pretentious text - a request from a suicide to have her beloved come to his funeral? Why did she provoke the impulse of self-destruction? I was almost sure that if I happened to live at that time and heard this melody seventy years ago, I could cause irreparable harm to myself. Indeed, the atmosphere of the second half of the thirties smelled of suicide: the Nazi bacchanalia in Germany, the meat grinder of Stalinist terror, the civil war in Spain, the Great Depression ... Mankind seemed to be teetering on the verge of self-destruction, and soon nevertheless collapsed into the abyss of world war. And above all this, sweet pop music hovered, as if trying to enchant, speak, delay the inevitable horror with the sounds of tango. And three decades after the creation of the songs "Last Sunday" and "Gloomy Sunday" , the love rock ballad "Sad Sunday" ("Blue Sunday") by the American band "The Doors" appeared. It is noteworthy that the special charm of this composition, released in 1970 on the Morrison Hotel record , is given by the sounds of the electric organ of Ray Manzarek, a Chicago Pole who created the trademark "cosmic" sound of The Doors. His parents were born in Poland and emigrated to the United States at the beginning of the 20th century. weary sun Poster for the show "Tango of Love" by Julian Krzewiński and Leon Idzikowski, photo: Polish National Library Poster for the show "Tango of Love" by Julian Krzewiński and Leon Idzikowski, photo: Polish National Library Great music, as you know, does not recognize state borders. Soon, the tango to the music of Jerzy Petersbursky from Poland came to the Soviet Union, where a Russian-language version of this song appeared, and not one, but three. The first - and most popular - Soviet interpretation of the song "To Ostatnia Niedziela"was a composition recorded in 1937 by a jazz orchestra conducted by Alexander Tsfasman. The song was performed by the soloist of the ensemble, young singer Pavel Mikhailov, and the lyrics were written by the poet Iosif Alvek, who in the 1930s made a living writing lyrics for pop songs. Alvek, who was friends with Velimir Khlebnikov and even called himself his executor (because of which scandals often broke out in literary circles), halved the original text of Zenon Friedwald - in the Russian version, the words appeared only in the refrain. And the love story is completely different. Alvek did without the complaints of a young man in love and suicidal motives, making the text more restrained. Perhaps he replaced pitch despair with a slight elegiac sadness because he understood that a song with pronounced “decadent moods” in the Soviet Union had no chance. Alvek's lovers part against the backdrop of the romantic scenery of the southern sea, telling the listener about the sad, but natural and therefore not too dramatic finale of the holiday romance: “The tired sun / tenderly said goodbye to the sea. / At this hour you confessed / that there is no love. / I felt a little sad - without melancholy, without sadness / your words sounded at this hour. Tsfasman, as an arranger and leader of the ensemble, also made some adjustments, but not to the original text, but to the music. He "twisted" the arrangement, slightly accelerated and additionally accentuated the rhythm, thereby raising the "temperature" of the composition and making it more sensual. On the disc, the song was released under the name "Parting" - however, for some reason, without indicating the name of the author of the music. The banal name did not take root, and soon this song began to be called according to the first words of the famous chorus - "Burnt Sun". Petersbursky's melody very quickly became super popular in the USSR, and soon two more text versions of the song appeared. One of them, entitled "Leaves Fall from the Maple" , was recorded in early 1938 by the Moscow Vocal Jazz Quartet conducted by Alexander Rezanov. The lyrics for this song were written by the poet Andrey Volkov, who focused on describing the change of seasons: “Leaves fall from the maple, / so summer is over, / and winter will come with snow / again. / The balcony door is clogged, / the field is covered with snow, / and under a gloomy sky / houses are standing. Volkov almost completely abandoned the motive of love experiences. “Almost”, since further in his text “a window is lit in a quiet house / she is not sleeping outside the window now”, but who “she” is and what is the reason for her insomnia, the listener can only guess. And in Leningrad, the poetess Asta Galla (Anna Yermolaeva) wrote her own text to the music of Jerzy Petersbursky, who, like Alvek, also turned to the theme of a holiday romance, specifying some details: in her version, the parting of lovers takes place on the Black Sea coast, namely in Miskhor ( apparently because of the rhyme to the word "sea"). At the same time, it is not clear on whose behalf the story is being told - the lyrical “I” here can be both a woman and a man, which can be called an ideal gender solution. Asta Galla's chorus sounded like this: “Do you remember the summer in the south, / the Black Sea coast, / cypresses and roses / in the fire of dawn; / our first meeting / there, in the hot Miskhor, / where the gentle splash of the sea, / like a song of love. Tango on the verses of Asta Galla called "Song of the South"performed by the young singer Claudia Shulzhenko, accompanied by pianist Mikhail Korik, was released in 1939 at the Leningrad Gramophone Record Factory. And yet, only the song "Tired Sun" resisted the all-consuming action of time , with the popularity of which neither "Song of the South" nor "Leaves Fall from the Maple" could compete. Some musicologists explain this by the fact that the circulation of the Leningrad factory was much lower than the circulation of the Aprelevsk and Noginsk factories, which supplied the country with records of "Burnt Sun" . But, of course, it's not about circulation. Shortening the text of the Polish tango, Tsfasman and Alvek made "Burnt Sun"dance thing, which predetermined its colossal success. The immortal melody of Jerzy Petersburski was the winner, thanks to which it was very convenient to dance to the tango about the weary sun. And Alvek's laconic text reduced the love story to a simple and capacious formula, instantly etched into the memory after the first listening. Gently, gently, gently...Since then, the very first bars of this intoxicating tango, which has long become a classic of the genre, instantly immerse the listener in the atmosphere of the thirties and forties of the last century. This effect is commonly used in cinema when the director needs to convey the color of that time, to recreate a bizarre mixture of serenity and anxiety. Jerzy Petersbursky's tango sounded in the films "There Was War Tomorrow" , "Calling Fire on Ourselves" , "Schindler's List" , "The Dawns Here Are Quiet" and many, many other places. Not without curiosities. Heroes of the Oscar-winning film by Nikita Mikhalkov "Burnt by the Sun"they listen and hum the famous song incessantly, although the film takes place in June 1936, when there was no Russian version of the Polish hit yet. However, is it really that important? Another thing is more important - there is so much authenticity in this melody that it penetrates the subconscious with the gentle insistence of an old gramophone record, the stumbling rhythm of which was wonderfully beaten by the poet Yevgeny Rein in the poem "Gently" full of aching nostalgia for the irrevocably gone post-war childhood: The weary sun gently, tenderly, tenderly, Gently said goodbye to the sea. Cut into a hundred entrecote My flesh, Never forget how the plate wove, rotated. I don't have those turns. Nothing. No problem. We have gone so far away , we have gone so far away From the cold sea, from the ninth "A" ... Of course, this song is not forgotten in Poland either. It was difficult to compete with Mieczysław Fogg, the first performer of "The Last Sunday", however, many Polish artists succeeded with brilliance - especially those who emphasized the drama of the text, turning the song into a mini-performance, such as the magnificent Piotr Fronchevsky. The younger generation is not far behind - not so long ago, the Polish group "Dreadsquad" recorded their version of the song in the reggae style - and the pre-war tango sounded with new freshness. And the phrase “To ostatnia niedziela” (“This is the last Sunday”) has become firmly established in speech, where it is often used in an ironic manner. For example, in the spring of 2018, after an official ban on trade was introduced in Poland on the second and third Sundays of the month, the joking expression “To ostatnia niedziela bez handlu” (“This is the last Sunday when shops are closed”) appeared - they say, next Sunday you can safely do your shopping. And who knows. Igor Belov Author: Igor Belov Igor Belov - poet, translator. Writes about literature.
https://culture.pl/ru/article/utomlennoe-solnce-ili-poslednee-voskresene-istoriya-odnoy-pesni///Tired Sun, or Last Sunday./// History of one song///#music///Author: Igor BelovPublished: 11 Sept. 2018///It is difficult to find a person who has never heard the song "Burnt Sun", which has become one of the nostalgic symbols of the past century. However, few people know that this charming tango came to the USSR from Poland, where it was known under a different name and was sung in completely different words. Igor Belov tells how this great song appeared, which in Poland was called the "suicide tango", how it crossed the borders and began to live a new life, giving rise to many interpretations, but not losing its magnetism.///Truly great art belongs to everyone and is therefore, to a certain extent, anonymous. If music or poetry "goes to the people", their popularity and significance can obscure the figures of the true creators of these masterpieces. But still, these people have names and personal destinies, as do those who helped their works to take root on the soil of another culture and become something very important and dear to this culture. A curious example of the “migration of a masterpiece” is the story of the famous Polish song “To ostatnia niedziela” (“Last Sunday”), the Russian version of which is called “Tired Sun”acquired a cult status in the USSR and is still strongly associated with that incredible and terrible era, smelling of gunpowder, leather sword belt, Red Moscow perfume, pre-war stuffiness, apples from a dacha near Moscow and solar dust on a gramophone record.///Last Sunday///Jerzy Petersburski, 1926.///And it all started in Warsaw in 1936, when the languid sounds of tango sounded on the stages of popular cabarets and variety theaters - Morskie Oko, Qui Pro Quo, Mirage, Black Cat. One of the most sought-after creators of this "music of serene bliss" was the Polish composer and pianist Jerzy Petersburski , who was once blessed by Imre Kalman himself. Petersbursky had a rare talent - the pop songs he composed, although they belonged to a light, entertaining genre, at the same time they breathed such harmony and were so imbued with deep sensuality that they could compete with the works of serious composers.Zenon Friedwald, lyricist of the song "To ostatnia niedziela"///He also had an amazing musical flair, and when the songwriter Zenon Friedwald showed Petersbursky the poem “Last Sunday” (“To ostatnia niedziela”), the musician realized that this could be made into a hit of the century.///What was this song about? The text was written from the point of view of a young man whose girlfriend leaves for another, who - literally - is "richer and better." The young man resigned himself to the impending separation, but asks his beloved to spend at least one last Sunday with him: No, I will not erase the stigma of failure, here it is, the sad ending: the one who is prettier and richer than me, stole my happiness! I do not ask you for an explanation, but before you leave, give me just one more Sunday, and at least the grass will not grow there! Only one Sunday, and we will say goodbye forever, like rivers in full swing, that's the whole story. At least one Sunday, so as not to perish hope, smile at me, as before, for the last time. There are many Sundays ahead, but they are no longer on my way. At least one Sunday, my string of dreams, kissing the firebird, goodbye, sorry! Am I able to repel this attack, suffering at night and during the day? There is only one way out...However, we will not talk about it. If only you were happy, dear, tender, like a lilac. Let me cope with the flour and before parting , give me this day.///translated by Igor Belov///Having written a tango to these words, full of gentle lyricism and aching sadness, Jerzy Petersbursky gave the song to the famous Polish pop singer Mieczysław Fogg . Soon Fogg recorded this song in the studio, and the records began to sell like hot cakes - the releasing company, Syrena-Elektro, barely had time to churn out additional pressings.///The tango "To ostatnia niedziela" was very popular in pre-war Poland, it sounded in the tragic days of the Warsaw Uprising - Mieczysław Fogg, a member of the anti-fascist underground, performed it for the rebels on the barricades and in hospitals. And Jerzy Petersbursky has since written a lot of good songs (in particular, the famous composition "The Blue Handkerchief" ), but the song "To ostatnia niedziela" still remained a symbol of the era, like "Farewell of the Slav ".///Begging his ex-fiancee to spend one more, their last Sunday with him, the lyrical hero of the song of Petersbursky and Friedwald vaguely and a little coquettishly hinted that he could commit suicide: “There is only one way out ... However, let's not talk about him." This is probably why the song "Last Sunday " was called "tango of suicides" in Poland. By a strange coincidence, in the same 1936, an epidemic of suicides broke out in Hungary, connected, according to legend, with a song that had a very similar name - "Gloomy Sunday" ("Szomorú vasárnap"). This melancholic and sad tango with a depressive aura was written three years earlier by the pianist of one of the Budapest restaurants, Rezho Seresh, to the words of the crime reporter Laszlo Javor.///The "Song of the Hungarian Suicides" gained international fame under the name "Gloomy Sunday" (performed by Billy Holiday, Mel Tormé, Paul Robeson, Serge Gainsbourg - you can't count them all) and is considered the most depressing song in the world - in Hungary and the UK it has been for many decades was simply banned for promoting suicide. Krzysztof Varga, a well-known Polish writer of Hungarian origin, on the pages of his story "Turula Goulash" wrote about the authors of the "Gloomy Sunday" tango and the paradoxical effect produced by their creation: By God, it was a duo of first-class killers. No Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot, even with such clear evidence, could prove their guilt in this ideal crime committed with the help of music. The sounds of the piano turned out to be a poison worse than cyanide and arsenic combined. (...) What was so hypnotic in this song with a simple melody and rather pretentious text - a request from a suicide to have her beloved come to his funeral? Why did it provoke the impulse of self-destruction? I was almost sure that if I happened to live at that time and heard this melody seventy years ago, I could cause irreparable harm to myself.///Indeed, the atmosphere of the second half of the thirties smelled of suicide: the Nazi bacchanalia in Germany, the meat grinder of Stalinist terror, the civil war in Spain, the “Great Depression” ... Mankind seemed to be teetering on the verge of self-destruction, and soon nevertheless collapsed into the abyss of world war. And above all this, sweet pop music soared, as if trying to enchant, speak, delay the inevitable horror with the sounds of tango.///And three decades after the creation of the songs "Last Sunday" and "Gloomy Sunday" , the love rock ballad "Sad Sunday" ("Blue Sunday") by the American band "The Doors" appeared. It is noteworthy that the special charm of this composition, released in 1970 on the record "Morrison Hotel" , is given by the sounds of the electric organ of Ray Manzarek, a Chicago Pole who created the signature "cosmic" sound of "The Doors". His parents were born in Poland and emigrated to the United States at the beginning of the 20th century. Great music, as you know, does not recognize state borders. Soon, the tango to the music of Jerzy Petersbursky from Poland came to the Soviet Union, where a Russian-language version of this song appeared, and not one, but three///The first - and most popular - Soviet interpretation of the song "To Ostatnia Niedziela"was a composition recorded in 1937 by a jazz orchestra conducted by Alexander Tsfasman. The soloist of the ensemble, the young singer Pavel Mikhailov, performed the song, and the lyrics were written by the poet Iosif Alvek, who in the 1930s made a living writing lyrics for pop songs. Alvek, who was friends with Velimir Khlebnikov and even called himself his executor (because of which scandals often erupted in literary circles), halved the original text of Zenon Friedwald - in the Russian version, the words appeared only in the refrain. And the love story is completely different. Alvek did without the complaints of a young man in love and suicidal motives, making the text more restrained. Perhaps he replaced pitch despair with a slight elegiac sadness because he understood that a song with pronounced “decadent moods” in the Soviet Union had no chance. Alvek's lovers part against the background of the romantic scenery of the southern sea, telling the listener about the sad, but natural and therefore not too dramatic finale of the holiday romance: “The tired sun / tenderly said goodbye to the sea. / At this hour you confessed / that there is no love. / I felt a little sad - without melancholy, without sadness / your words sounded at this hour.///Tsfasman, as an arranger and leader of the ensemble, also made some adjustments, but not to the original text, but to the music. He "twisted" the arrangement, slightly accelerated and additionally accentuated the rhythm, thereby raising the "temperature" of the composition and making it more sensual. On the disc, the song was released under the name "Parting" - however, for some reason, without indicating the name of the author of the music. The banal name did not take root, and soon this song began to be called according to the first words of the famous chorus - "Burnt Sun".///Petersbursky's melody very quickly became super popular in the USSR, and soon two more text versions of the song appeared. One of them, entitled "Leaves Fall from the Maple" , was recorded at the beginning of 1938 by the Moscow Vocal Jazz Quartet conducted by Alexander Rezanov. The lyrics for this song were written by the poet Andrey Volkov, who focused on describing the change of seasons: “Leaves fall from the maple, / it means summer is over, / and winter will come with snow / again. / The balcony door is clogged, / the field is covered with snow, / and under a gloomy sky / there are houses. Volkov almost completely abandoned the motive of love experiences. “Almost”, since further in his text “a window is shining in a quiet house / she is not sleeping outside the window now”, but who “she” is and what is the reason for her insomnia, the listener can only guess.///And in Leningrad, the poetess Asta Galla (Anna Yermolaeva) wrote her own text to the music of Jerzy Petersbursky, who, like Alvek, also turned to the theme of a holiday romance, specifying some details: in her version, the parting of lovers takes place on the Black Sea coast, namely in Miskhor ( apparently because of the rhyme to the word "sea"). At the same time, it is not clear on whose behalf the story is being told - the lyrical “I” here can be both a woman and a man, which can be called an ideal gender solution. Asta Galla's chorus sounded like this: “Do you remember the summer in the south, / the Black Sea coast, / cypresses and roses / in the fire of dawn; / our first meeting / there, in the hot Miskhor, / where the gentle splash of the sea, / like a song of love. Tango on poems by Asta Galla called "Song of the South"performed by the young singer Claudia Shulzhenko, accompanied by pianist Mikhail Korik, was released in 1939 at the Leningrad Gramophone Record Factory.///And yet, only the song "Tired Sun" resisted the all-consuming action of time , with the popularity of which neither "Song of the South" nor "Leaves Fall from the Maple" could compete. Some musicologists explain this by the fact that the circulation of the Leningrad factory was much lower than the circulation of the Aprelevsk and Noginsk factories, which supplied the country with records of "Burnt Sun" . But, of course, it's not about circulation. Shortening the text of the Polish tango, Tsfasman and Alvek made "Burnt Sun"dance thing, which predetermined its colossal success. The immortal melody of Jerzy Petersburski turned out to be the winner, thanks to which it was very convenient to dance to the tango about the weary sun. And Alvek's laconic text reduced the love story to a simple and capacious formula, instantly etched into memory after the first listening.///Since then, the very first bars of this intoxicating tango, which has long become a classic of the genre, instantly immerse the listener in the atmosphere of the thirties and forties of the last century. This effect is commonly used in cinema when the director needs to convey the color of that time, to recreate a bizarre mixture of serenity and anxiety. Jerzy Petersbursky's tango sounded in the films "There Was War Tomorrow" , "Calling Fire on Ourselves" , "Schindler's List" , "The Dawns Here Are Quiet" and many, many other places. Not without curiosities. Heroes of the Oscar-winning film by Nikita Mikhalkov "Burnt by the Sun"they listen and sing the famous song incessantly, although the film takes place in June 1936, when there was no Russian version of the Polish hit yet. However, is it really that important? Another thing is more important - there is so much authenticity in this melody that it penetrates the subconscious with the gentle insistence of an old gramophone record, the stumbling rhythm of which was wonderfully beaten by the poet Yevgeny Rein in the poem "Gently" full of aching nostalgia for the irrevocably gone post-war childhood: The weary sun gently, gently, tenderly, Gently said goodbye to the sea. Cut into a hundred entrecote My flesh, Never forget how the plate wove, rotated. I don't have those turns. Nothing. No problem. We have gone so far away , we have gone so far away From the cold sea, from the ninth "A"...///Of course, this song is not forgotten in Poland either. It was difficult to compete with Mieczysław Fogg, the first performer of "The Last Sunday", however, many Polish artists succeeded with brilliance - especially those who emphasized the drama of the text, turning the song into a mini-performance, such as the magnificent Piotr Fronchevsky. The younger generation is not far behind - not so long ago, the Polish group "Dreadsquad" recorded their version of the song in the reggae style - and the pre-war tango sounded with new freshness. And the phrase “To ostatnia niedziela” (“This is the last Sunday”) has become firmly established in speech, where it is often used in an ironic manner. For example, in the spring of 2018, after an official ban on trade was introduced in Poland on the second and third Sundays of the month, the joking expression “To ostatnia niedziela bez handlu” (“This is the last Sunday when shops are closed”) appeared - they say, next Sunday you can safely do your shopping. And who knows.
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