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It was not the wind, Rimsky-Korsakov/Не ветер вея с высоты, Римский-Корсаков/Museo de las culturas

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Lyrics: It was not the wind, blowing from the heights, That touched the leaves on a moonlit night. My soul was touched by you. It trembled, like leaves; It, like a harp, is many-stringed. I was bedeviled by everyday maelstroms And crushing invasions, Whistling and howling, it tore the strings And buried everything under cold snow. Your voice caresses my ear, Your touch is light, Like a floating flower petals, Like the air of a May night. Letra: No era el viento, soplando desde las alturas, Eso tocó las hojas en una noche de luna. Mi alma fue tocada por ti. Temblaba, como las hojas; Es, como un arpa, de muchas cuerdas. Estaba atormentado por torbellinos cotidianos Y aplastantes invasiones, Silbando y aullando, rasgó las cuerdas Y enterró todo bajo la nieve fría. Tu voz acaricia mi oído, Tu toque es ligero, Como pétalos de flores flotantes, Como el aire de una noche de mayo.

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