This next step seems to be taken by Boris Grebenshchikov, the mighty ‘Beh Geh,’ the unofficial grandfather of Russian rock, in his Russian Album,
And it is precisely ‘Gosudaryunia’ that we will deal with during the rest of the lecture. Marc Almond (or maybe one of his co-workers) has done his best to accurately—with the possible exception of line 15—translate the lyrics of this enigmatic composition into English. I definitely admire this linguistic endeavour. I wish you could now listen to the original version of ‘Gosudaryunia’ while following the lines of Almond’s translation.
Gosudaryunia,
Remember we were building the house:
Good it was but empty inside.
For many years
5 We were embroidering the snow with silver,
Scared of touching it with poison.
For many years
We would sing till the first light of dawn,
Sing but never say it in words.
10 Gosudaryunia,
If enemies were what you desired,
Who would ever dare to say ‘no’?
So why is that?
We can’t stop drinking this piss,
15 Can’t stop daring this dare.
Though we were told:
Morning would not take its toll,
And the burden not heavy to bear.
So maybe not for nothing
20 All these years building this house
Even if it’s empty inside.
Because of it
Now we know what silver is like,
Let’s see what the poison can do.
Please rest assured that the Russian original is as hard to understand and interpret as the English version that you now have before your eyes. The text can raise many a brow; it is nothing that resembles ‘I love it when you call me señorita.’ The song is heavily charged with symbolism. Allow me to name its most important symbols and images, its semantic cornerstones, so to speak. They are
— ‘gosudaryunia,’
— the empty house,
— humiliation of the collective protagonist,
— silver vs. poison,
— the enemies that were ‘desired,’
— the burden that is not heavy to bear.
‘Gosudaryunia’ is, to begin with, a Russian form of address that is traditionally used when you talk to an Empress or a tsar’s wife; in this capacity it may be translated as ‘Your Majesty.’ Please note that Marc Almond is fully aware of this meaning: the sequence of photos that accompanies his composition on YouTube shows, among others, Her Majesty Alexandra Fyodorovna, the unfortunate wife of the last Russian tsar, Nicholas II of Russia. It is, secondarily, a very obsolete way to address any respected female person which can be roughly translated into English as ‘my lady’ or ‘my gracious lady.’ (‘Have mercy on me, gosudaryunia,’ says the old man to the golden fish in Alexander Pushkin’s famous poem.) To be certain, each time we Christians talk about ‘my gracious lady’ we mean Virgin Mary, it is therefore not impossible—probable even—that the artist addresses the Mother of God.