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 Posted: Mon Feb 01, 2010 11:32 am
 ωelcome•••
Where I post (almost) every fanfic I write. I will post here, however, those I think you may like the best.
English isn’t my native tongue; please, try to tolerate my errors.
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Posted: Mon Feb 01, 2010 11:44 am
The Blue Headkerchief
Characters: Russia, Belarus
Rating: K+
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family
Warnings: references for the Winter War
Summary: Russia is off for the Winter War, but still has the memory of his young sister and her blue kerchief. A few drabbles from Russia’s POV, around the immortal song, “The Blue Headkerchief”.
Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5589466/1/The_Blue_Headkerchief
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Posted: Mon Feb 01, 2010 12:13 pm
The Blue Headkerchief ••• Синенький, скромный платочек
Падал с опущенных плеч
Ты говорила, Что не забудешь
Ласковых, радостных встреч…
Remember the day when I gave you your blue headkerchief, séstra? I remember it clearly, as if the years have never passed ever since.
We were still children, and it was one of the prettiest winters our little, childish kingdom have ever had; the snow that had fallen off the skies created such beautiful figures on the big window of our little living room. On the blessed moments when we sat on our knees and watched it falls, while Katja toasted chestnuts in the next room, we were the richest of all.
Even now, I can still feel the silkiness of your hair and hear the sweetness of your soft laughter. You were like a fairy that melted even the coldest hearts.
Katja returned with the chestnuts and sat besides you. She took one of them, exhaled on it so it won’t burn your tongue, before she gave it to you. Then, she took another one, and done the same for me. The taste fills my mouth when I remember, so crispy and warm.
We didn’t had heating when the temperatures descended when the early dark arrived. We have never been rich and were used to that weather, but you… you were just a baby. I covered you with the scarf Katja gave me – remember, séstra? – and took your tiny palms in mine. They were frozen, but you told me your heart was warm.
I had the headkerchief in my pocket. I found it one day, when I went to greet the summer, forgetting it there. I pulled it out now – it was as smooth as your beautiful hair – and wrapped it around your face, “like the little present you are to us all,” as Katja said. You loved it, and we loved you more than anything else.
Do you remember that, séstra? You promised you will never forget.
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Порой ночной
Мы распрощались с тобой
Нет больше ночек, где ты, платочек?
Милый, желанный, родной?
Помню, как в памятный вечер
Падал платочек твой с плеч,
Как провожала и обещала
Синий платочек сберечь
A few winters passed since the innocence disappeared, to the day we got apart. It was legitimate – we were grown up; both you and Katja wanted to live by your own – yet, I felt as my heart was broken.
I missed you so much, séstra, in such way you would never understand; especially not now. Not seeing your face in front of me, not hearing your ringing laugh – it was a torture to my soul. Nights as days I spent lying on my bed, seeing you in my mind with the little headkerchief wrapped around you.
You offered me your little hand. I took it gently and placed it near my heart. “Let’s promise ourselves we will never forget this night,” I whispered. You nodded, your look seemed to see off me. It was also just as your sight penetrated my skin, but I wasn’t embarrassed because it was you – my dearest sweet and desired young sister.
“I will always keep the headkerchief close to my heart,” you promised. Your lips twisted to a delicate smile that suited you so much, I wanted to cry. But I smiled instead, holding myself so hard to prevent that.
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И пусть со мной
Нет сегодня любимой, родной,
Знаю, с любовью как изголовью
Прячешь платок голубой.
At that night that never ended, I could have seen you clearly in my mind: you sat on your small bed, pulled off the blue headkerchief and put it on your bedside.
Séstra… were you warm that night?
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Письма твои получая,
Слышу я голос живой.
И между строчек синий платочек
Снова встает предо мной.
И часто в бой
Провожает меня облик твой,
Чувствую, рядом с любящим взглядом
Ты постоянно со мной
I was all surrounded by the astonishing, wild dance of artillery when I received your first letter. For the first time in centuries, my hands were shaking when the small envelope reached my hands. I was afraid the blood will stain your letter, but it reminded clean, fortunately.
I could have seen the Fínskij troops from afar; at that time, it seemed we were near to crush them. But they all disappeared the moment I pulled your letter out.
You wrote to me in Russian – Bog, you can’t imagine the relief I felt! – when you described me your image about myself, on my glorious fight za rádinu. Although we haven’t seen each other for so long, you were correct to the tiniest detail. Was it the time, when everything started to get wrong? Perhaps no one can really tell.
Séstra, I could have seen your own image between the lines. It’s been a while you wore the kerchief around your neck, and now I could clearly see its bluest brightness lightening up your worried face. I wanted you to know I was doing all this for our safety, to have us all together again, but then that tender hue of blue reached to me, and I felt like a blind.
I still had your figure standing next to me, when I was later forced to get deeper into the Finnish territory. They had imitated what we were doing ourselves to Germanija and his troops, its effect on us was fatal. It seemed we wouldn’t keep up standing for much longer.
All perished, séstra, when I seemed your defenceless, yet confident image in my head. I wasn’t worried about you, I knew you can stand all by yourself; it just filled me with hope and the recognition, I have your absolute support.
---
Сколько заветных платочков
Носим мы в сердце с собой!
Радости встречи, девичьи плечи
Помним в страде боевой.
If you only knew, how much suffering and yearning I carried in my heart! Our childish secrets, innocent promises, the tender smiles we had at the angle of our lips… all were flashing before my eyes, while I was on my fight!
---
За них, родных,
Желанных, любимых таких,
Строчит пулеметчик
За синий платочек,
Что был на плечах дорогих!
It was all for you, dorogája; for you, and for other, desired girls, who were waiting for us to come back, with their own, little kerchief, they carried with them, held tight in their dearest hands. I didn’t want you, or any of those other girls, to pass through the sufferings this bloody war caused you; but it was a war, and in such dark times, we just don’t have any other option.
Yet, every single bullet my machine gun was firing, was dedicated for the memory of you. Every shout, drop of blood, every command and every fresh corpse – were only for you; for your sweet face, for your cherished safety, and for the dear blue kerchief you wore around your dearest shoulders.••• Disclaim: I don’t own Russia, Belarus nor the song; the first two are independent countries since 1991 and belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, the last belongs to Galitski, Maksimov and Peterburgski.
A grand thank to my dearest of all, Rei, for the Beta.
Séstra – sister
Fínskij – Finnish
Bog – God
Za Rádinu – for the motherland
Germanija – Germany
Dorogája – dear
Translation & Transliteration
Синий Платочек (Sinij Platoček) – the Blue Headkerchief
Lyrics: I. Galitski and M. Maksimov
Music: E. Peterburgski
Sineňkij, skromnyj platoček (a blue, modest kerchief)
Padal s opuščennych pleč (which fells from one’s shoulders)
Ty govorila, čto ne zabudeš (you have then told me, you’ll never forget)
Laskovych, padostnych vstreč (our gentle and joyful meetings again)
Poroj nočnoj (but then came the night)
My rasproščalis s toboj… (when we had to say goodbye…)
Net boliše noček, gde ty, platoček, (the night won’t return, where are you, kerchief?)
Milyj, želannyj, rodnoj (my sweet, my desired, my dear)
Pomnju, kak v pamjatnyi večer (I remember as in that unforgettable night)
Padal platoček tvoj s pleč, (your small kerchief was thrown from your shoulders)
Kak provožala i obeščala (I remember how you were seeing off me, and how you have promised me)
Sinij platoček s bereč (to preserve the small blue kerchief)
I pust co mnoj (and let you not together with me)
Net segodnja ljubimoj, rodnoj, (my dear, my beloved girl)
Znaju, s ljubovju kak izgolovju (but I know you’re keeping the blue kerchief)
Prjačeš plato goluboj (with love, on your bedside)
Pisma tvoi polučaja (when receiving your letters)
Slyšy ja golos živoj (I can hear your dear voice)
I meždu stroček sinij platoček (and I can see in my mind, the blue kerchief)
Snova vstajet predo mnoj (between the lines of your letter)
I často v boj (and your image often sees off)
Provožajet menja oblik tvoj (me, in a battle)
Čuvstvuju, rjadom s ljubjaščim vzgljadom (and I can feel you’re constantly standing near me)
Ty postojanno so mnoj (with a loving look)
Skoľko tavetnych platočkov (how many fond kerchiefs)
Nosim my v serdce s soboj! (we are carrying in our hearts!)
Radosti vstreči, devičji pleči (tender words, girl’s shoulder)
Pomnim v strade bojevoj (are in our memory during the battle)
Za nich, rodnych, (it’s for them, my dear)
Želannych, ljubimych takich, (for beloved, so desired girls)
Stročit pulemetčik (the machine gunner is firing)
Za sinij platoček, (for the blue kerchief)
Čto byl na plečach dorogich! (which was on my dear’s shoulders!)
Link: ]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bRCpl9DVqkk
Surprisingly to most thoughts, this song was not written during or after the WWII – but earlier; yet, it got its popularity during that war and therefore associated with it.
Due to its increasing popularity, this song was translated to some other languages, such as Polish (Błękitna Chusteczka) and Hebrew (Tchol Hamitpáchat) – just to note a few examples. Around a year ago, I have seen a series about the WWII from the Russian sight (“Blood Upon the Snow”, if it means anything to any of you), that ended when one of the Russian interviewers played its melody on his accordion; that image had drown such a strong impression in me, that I couldn’t help using it.
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