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MP3 7.0 MB • 128 kbps • 7:38
Story behind the song
8. Synopsis
Zoya pulls Oleg's medical file card, and discovers that Oleg has been truthful about his life. She sings about love, men, and her ambition to be a doctor.
Lyrics
Libretto translation:
Scene 8.
(Zoya enters the registrar office, where patient files are kept. She opens a file drawer, and pulls out the medical file card for Oleg Kostoglotov).
Zoya, (reading from the file card)
It turns out his name is Oleg Filimonovich.
Fi-li-mo-no-vich.
This rather heavy patronymic is a good match for such an unpleasant sounding last name, although his first name does something to soften the others. Born in 1920 and in spite of being thirty-four he is, in fact, unmarried, which seemed rather improbable.
Lives in a place called Ush-Terek. But, I would rather understand the man than visualize the village.
(Quickly checking the back of the card)
No relatives whatever.
Topographer by profession but has worked as a land surveyor.
He has spoken truthfully about himself.
He is chained to his exile, but not because he is a murderer. He is not married, but not because of his vices. After all these years he can still speak with tenderness of his former fiancee and clearly he is capable of genuine feeling.
None of this sheds any light on the man, it only makes things more mysterious.
Most of my girl friends, especially the medical students, believe that everything possible should be grabbed from life immediately and with both hands.
The young men I meet all dance and go for walks with the same aim in mind: to warm themselves up a bit, have their fun and then clear out.
I feel a certain balance and harmony in my body in the relation of each part of it to the rest, and in my temperment and my outlook on life.
Any extension or broadening of my life can only take place within that harmony.
Any man who in the intervals between sliding his hands over my body, says silly vulgar things, or repeats bits from a film script immediately destroys the harmony and there is no chance whatever of me falling for him.
The second year I’ve spent working and studying at the same time.
And now there is this malignant suffering from cancer…
Zoya means life. I like explaining it.
I am excited by his steady absorbing admiration. It is something I’ve never encountered among young men from the town who cuddle their girls so casually every Saturday night at the dance.
Supposing something serious suddenly emerged from our banter? It was perfectly possible. What if this time it didn’t all end in a depressing search for articles of clothing scattered around a room? What if it developed in to something strong and lasting.
He is not married, but not because of his vices.
After all these years he still speaks with tenderness of his former finacee,
He is chained to his exile, but not because he is a murderer.
and clearly he is capable of genuine feeling.
There is nothing in the least handsome about him, but I can find nothing ugly about him either.
Grandmother would say – you don’t need a handsome one, you need a good one.
Who knows in what back of beyond happiness may be waiting?
Each man has his own path in life.
I know it will be all right.
I will not push away love.
I embrace the possibility of love, and of happiness – but, I draw these possibilities near to me, in my arms, in order to say goodbye to them, and to let them go.
My ambition to be a doctor -- to spend my life to heal and alleviate the suffering of people, -- will be fulfilled.
For me, doctors are like the eternal stars in the sky, sharing their company with others, who have dedicated their lives to medicine.
To put healing knowledge in practise.
To share the heavens with humble and great spirits
Eternal as the stars, as the galaxies.
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