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Gipsis tribes were fair places under heaven in poems.
On Greenhills Stage, Gypsy dances "Golden Earring" and "Wanderlust King"
Presented by Unveiled Ann Arbor, Directed by Mia.
Beautiful dances made me recall some lines by A. Pushkin (Y. Bonver translation).
......
The Gypsies in the noisy throng
Stray Bessarabia around.
Today over the river, long,
They are lodging in their tents, worn out.
Like freedom their night-resting is,
And peaceful sleep the heavens under.

......

Amidst the steppes all well lives:
The peaceful tasks of people,
Ready by morning for a travel,
And songs of women, and children weeps,
And ringing of a mobile anvil.

..., now, over the Gipsy camp,
The dozing silence is prevailing,
And heard is, in the sleeping steppe,
Just a dog's barking and steed's neighing.
Extinguished is each single light,
All's peaceful now. The moon is shining,
Alone in the heaven height,

......

A lady, youthful one and light,
Went for a walk in a field, empty.
She's used to freedom, full and zesty,
She will come back, but there's a night...

And soon the crescent, still a-ruling,
Will leave the distant clouds' set.
Zemphira's absent, and is cooling
A dinner the already prepared.

......

But there is she. Through the steppe, lone,
A youth is following her steps;
For the old gipsy he's unknown
Mom/Dad,?the young maiden says,
We have a guest. I've found him, missing,
In a desert that mound behind
And called for our camp for a night,
He wants to be like us ?the Gipsy;
......
I'll be his friend, the true and fair.
His name's Aleko and therefore
He vowed to follow me everywhere.

......

Mom/Dad:
I'm glad.
Stay till the morning ray is sent,
Under the vaults of our tent
Or stay mach longer, in a whole,
Just as you want. And I am glad
To share with you and home and bread.
Be ours ?get used to our dole,
Our straying freedom, dearth and soul,
And at the dawn, a road along,
Our single cart will us all bear;
Choose any job, for which you long:
Forge iron or just sing a song
And lead through villages a bear.

......

Over shores covered by forest,
In the time of a mute eve's
Noise and songs sail your tents over,
Over fires you cook with.

Hello, tribe whose life's so easy!
I discern your fires dance;
In the days, sunk in the Lethe,
I'll have lived in your gay tents.

......



All photographs are property of Zengquan Xu and may not be used for any purpose with out written permission. Please e-mail z.q.xu@hotmail.com.
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