I was driving home, my soul was full. I was on my way home (romance)

Writes Oleg Shuster.
At the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries, the popular actress Maria Yakovlevna Poiret, widely known under the artistic pseudonym Marusina, performed on the stages of theaters in St. Petersburg and Moscow. The unusual surname testified to the French origin of the actress. In fact, her ancestor was a Napoleonic soldier who fell behind the fleeing army and found shelter in Russia. The son of a former soldier, Yakov, already completely Russified, owned a fencing and gymnastics hall, and taught Russians these disciplines. Leo Tolstoy himself went to his gym. The playwright Sukhovo-Kobylin, the writer Gilyarovsky and other famous people of that time visited here. The fame of the Poiret family is evidenced by the fact that it was mentioned by Gilyarovsky in the book “Moscow and Muscovites”, Gorky in “The Life of Klim Samgin”, and Nina Berberova in her memoirs.

Jacob's daughter Maria showed a very early affinity for theatre, music and literature. But the path to what I loved was not easy. The family had seven children, and their parents died early. To make their fate easier, the older sisters married Maria off when she was just 16 years old. Maria's husband was engineer Sveshnikov, who was 30 years older. He categorically forbade her to engage in art. Having learned that she had disobeyed him, the engineer locked his young wife in a psychiatric hospital.

Maria's friend Anna was the sister of the then famous director and theater figure Mikhail Lentovsky. He was a friend of Maria's father. Together they rescued the girl from the hospital. She left her husband and began playing at the Lentovsky Theater. Already in the first vaudeville, which was called “The Hen - Golden Eggs,” she had to sing and dance a lot. The young actress was a huge success. For ten years she performed on the stage of the Lentovsky Theater. Maria was not only a versatile actress, she played the piano beautifully and composed music and poetry. Having heard her compositions, Tchaikovsky and Rubinstein suggested that the girl enter the conservatory. But she remained faithful to the theater.

Then she was invited to the Alexandrinsky Theater in St. Petersburg, then she moved to Moscow, where she played at the Maly Theater for several years. Her concert performances, in which she sang Russian and gypsy songs and romances, were a success. The singer often included works of her own composition in her programs. And she noted with pleasure that they were a success with listeners. Her dream was to open her own small theater of comedy and satire, in which she could stage the works of her favorite authors and invite the best singers and actors to perform. But this dream was not destined to come true.

At the very beginning of the twentieth century, Alexei Pleshcheev’s play “In His Role,” dedicated to the lives of actors, was staged at the Aquarium Theater. Maria Poiret played the main role in the play and also wrote the music for it. The romance “Swan Song” she performed, written in her own words, gained unprecedented popularity and became a real hit, as they would say today. At each performance, the audience demanded a repetition of the romance, and then showered the actress with toy swans and flowers.

Romance did not appear by chance. It reflected the actress’s stormy personal life, her love for one of the most prominent and progressive people of that time, Prince Pavel Dolgorukov, the founder of the Kadet Party (constitutional democrats). He was a keen connoisseur of art, highly educated and wealthy.

I'm sad. If you can understand

My trustingly tender soul,

Come and blame me

My fate is strangely rebellious.

I can't sleep in the dark at night,

Dark thoughts drive away sleep,

And burning tears involuntarily come to my eyes,

Like a wave in the surf, they come.

It’s somehow strange and wild for me to live without you,

The heart is not warmed by the affection of love.

Or did they tell me the truth that it was mine

Is the swan song finished?

Their happiness lasted ten years. Love gave birth to inspiration and creativity. During these years, Maria wrote a number of poems published in newspapers and magazines. Among them are poems dedicated to the great actresses Ermolova and Komissarzhevskaya. She traveled around Europe and wrote a book about Sicily. In Paris, she met her older brother Emmanuel, who became a famous French caricaturist, drawing under the pseudonym Caran d'Ache.

When the Russo-Japanese War began, Marie Poiret agreed with the publisher of the newspaper “Novoye Vremya” A. Suvorin about a trip to the Far East as her own correspondent. She not only wrote poetry, essays and reports for her newspaper, but often gave concerts to soldiers, raising their morale.

The inglorious Russian-Japanese war is over. Overwhelmed with impressions, Maria returns home. She stands for a long time at the window of the carriage, admiring the endless Russian landscapes. And lines of new poems appear in my head along with a passionate lyrical melody:

I was driving home, my soul was full

Unclear to myself

some new happiness.

It seemed to me that everything with such fate

They looked at me with such affection.

I was driving home... Two-horned moon

I looked out the windows of the boring carriage.

The distant bell of the morning bell

Sang in the air like a gentle string.

I was driving home... Through the pink veil

The beautiful dawn lazily woke up,

And the swallow, rushing somewhere into the distance,

I swam in the clear air.

I was driving home, I was thinking about you,

My thoughts were anxious and confused and torn.

Sweet slumber touched my eyes,

Oh, if I never woke up again.

This is how a new romance developed, which was a huge success with the public. And in life everything happened as predicted in the romance. She broke up with Dolgorukov, despite the fact that they had a daughter, Tatyana.

Some time passed, and a new love took possession of her. Her chosen one was Dolgorukov’s cousin, member of the State Duma, Count Alexei Orlov-Davydov. He was eight years younger than his beloved. For her sake, he divorced his former wife. But life didn’t work out with the new family either. It is worth telling briefly about this story, since at one time it excited all of Moscow. Count Orlov-Davydov dreamed of a son. Maria was already 50 years old, but she told her husband that she was expecting a child. Taking advantage of her husband's departure, she took the newborn child from the orphanage and passed it off as her own. But there was a man who, having learned about everything, reported to the count. A scandalous trial took place, which was followed with the same interest as reports from the battlefields of the First World War. The actress, who became a countess, won the case, but after that she left the stage and retired to her estate near Moscow.

She was an exceptionally kind and grateful person. After leaving the theater, Maria Poiret took up charity work and helped elderly actors. By that time, the affairs of her great friend, theater figure Mikhail Lentovsky, were upset. She managed to help him, saved him from complete ruin, and contributed to his treatment.

The revolution invaded her life and ruined everything. The estate was confiscated, her Moscow apartment was destroyed, she was left without housing and means of subsistence. She was not entitled to a state pension because she was a former countess. She survived by selling trinkets, the same porcelain, wax, celluloid swans that fans once gave her. Only thanks to the intensive petition of Vsevolod Meyerhold and Leonid Sobinov to the Soviet government, who described in detail her merits in theatrical art, Marie Poiret was given a small pension.

The fate of her lovers was tragic after the revolution. Both of them managed to travel abroad. In exile, Count Orlov-Davydov at one time served as a driver for Kerensky. He died abroad without even trying to return home. But Prince Dolgorukov made such an attempt. He crossed the border illegally, but was caught and shot.

Marie Poiret herself died in 1933 at the age of 69. Few people know about her now, except big fans of romances. But although her name is practically forgotten, this, fortunately, cannot be said about her beautiful romances. Perhaps you will not meet a performer of romances whose repertoire does not include the works of Marie Poiret.

I was driving home, my soul was full
Unclear to myself, some new happiness.
It seemed to me that everything with such fate
They looked at me with such affection.

I was driving home... Two-horned moon
I looked out the windows of the boring carriage.
The distant bell of the morning bell
Sang in the air like a gentle string...

Spreading the pink veil,
The beautiful dawn lazily woke up,
And the swallow, rushing somewhere into the distance,
I swam in the clear air.

I was driving home, I was thinking about you,
My thoughts were anxiously confused and torn.
A sweet slumber touched my eyes.
Oh, if I never woke up again...

I REMEMBER THE WALTZ THE SOUND IS ADORABLE sheet music
Words and lyrics by N. Listov

I remember the waltz's lovely sound
Late on a spring night,
An unknown voice sang it,
And a wonderful song flowed.

Yes, it was a lovely, languid waltz,
Yes, it was a wonderful waltz!

Now it's winter, and the same ones ate,
Covered in darkness, they stand
And there are snowstorms outside the window,
And the sounds of the waltz do not sound...

Where is this waltz, ancient, languid,
Where is this wonderful waltz?!

DON'T GO, STAY WITH ME sheet music
Words by M. Poigin
Music by N. Zubkov

Don't go, stay with me
It’s so pleasant here, so bright.
I'll cover you with kisses
Mouth and eyes and forehead.
I'll cover you with kisses
Mouth and eyes and forehead.

Don't go, stay with me
I've loved you for so long
I caress you with fire
I’ll burn you and tire you out.
I caress you with fire
I’ll burn you and tire you out.
Stay with me, stay with me.

Don't go, stay with me
Passion burns in my chest.

Don't go, don't go.
The delight of love awaits us with you,
Don't go, don't go.
Stay with me, stay with me.

THE NIGHT IS LIGHT sheet music
Words by M. Yazykov
Music by M. Shishkin

The night is bright, the moon is shining quietly over the river,
And the blue wave shines with silver.
Dark forest.. There in the silence of emerald branches
The nightingale does not sing her sonorous songs.

Blue flowers bloomed under the moon,
They awaken dreams in my heart.
I fly to you in my dreams, I repeat your name,
This night I’m still sad about you, dear friend.

Dear friend, tender friend, I, as loving as before,
On this moonlit night I remember you.
On this night with the moon on a foreign side,
Dear friend, tender friend, remember me.

WEEPING WILLOWS ARE SLEEPING sheet music
Words by A. Timofeev
Music by B.B.

Weeping willows are dozing
Leaning low over the stream,
The streams run hastily,
They whisper in the darkness of the night.
They whisper, everyone whispers, in the darkness of the night.

Thoughts about the distant past
They remind me
Heart sick, lonely
I yearn for those old days.
I yearn for those former bright days.

Where are you, dear dove,
Do you remember about me,
Just like I'm pining
You cry in the silence of the night.
Do you also cry in the silence of the night?

Weeping willows are dozing
Leaning low over the stream.

DARK CHERRY SHAWL sheet music
Words and music by unknown author

I don't dream about the past now,
And I no longer regret the past,
It will only remind you a lot and a lot
This dark cherry shawl.

I met him in this shawl,
And he called me his beloved,
I covered my face in shame
And he kissed me tenderly.

Told me: "Goodbye, darling,
I'm sorry to part with you,
It suits you, do you hear, dear,
This dark cherry shawl."

I don't dream about the past now,
Only sadness squeezed my heart,
And I silently press to my chest
This dark cherry shawl.

ONLY ONCE sheet music
Words by P. Herman
Music by B. Fomin

Day and night the heart sheds affection
Day and night my head is spinning
Day and night an excited fairy tale
Your words resonate with me

I want to love so much

The ray of purple sunset fades
Bushes shrouded in blue
Where are you once desired?
Where are you who gave dreams?

There's only one meeting in a lifetime
Only once does the thread break with fate
Just once on a cold winter evening
I want to love so much

FOGY MORNING sheet music
Words by I. Turgenev
Music by B. Abaza

Foggy morning gray morning
Sad fields covered with snow
Reluctantly you remember the past time
You will also remember faces long forgotten

Do you remember the abundant passionate speeches
Looks so greedily and tenderly caught
First meeting last meeting
Quiet voices, beloved sounds

Remember the separation with a strange smile
You will remember a lot from your distant home
Listening to the incessant chatter of wheels
Looking thoughtfully into the wide sky

DO YOU REMEMBER WE SITTED OVER THE SEA?.. sheet music
Words by G. Klechanov
Music by A. Kochetova

Do you remember, we sat above the sea,
The sunset burned like a crimson stripe
And the waves sang a song of love to us quietly
And foamed under our rock?

You whispered about possible happiness,
And the nightingale sang so tenderly, sweetly,
And the breeze breathes cautiously
The branches made such a mysterious noise.

ROMANCE OF THE TURBINES sheet music
Words by M. Matusovsky
Music by V. Basner

The nightingale whistled to us all night
The city was silent and the houses were silent

They drove us crazy all night long

The garden was all washed by spring showers
There was water in the dark ravines
God how naive we were
How young we were then

The years have flown by making us gray
Where is the purity of these living branches
Only winter and this white snowstorm
Reminds me of them today

At an hour when the wind is raging furiously
With new strength I feel
White acacia fragrant clusters
Irreversible like my youth

Nastenka's ROMANCE sheet music
Words by M. Tsvetaeva
Music by A. Petrov

You, whose wide greatcoats
Reminds me of sails
Whose spurs rang merrily
And voices.
And whose eyes are like diamonds
They left a mark on the heart, -
Charming dandies
Years gone by!

With one fierce will
You took the heart and the rock, -
Kings on every battlefield
And at the ball.
All heights were too small for you
And the staleest bread is soft,
Oh young generals
Their destinies.

Oh, how I think you could
With a hand full of rings,
And caress the curls of the maidens - and manes
Your horses.
In one incredible leap
You have lived your short life...
And your curls, your sideburns
It was snowing.

UNDER THE CASE OF A PLUSH BLANKET sheet music
Words by M. Tsvetaeva
Music by A. Petrov

Under the caress of a plush blanket
I call yesterday's dream.
What was it, whose victory,
Who is defeated, who is defeated?

I'm changing my mind again
I'm tormented by everyone again.
For what reason, I don’t know the words,
For what purpose, I don’t know the words.
Was there love?

Who was the hunter, who was the prey,
Everything is the devilish opposite.
What did I understand while purring for a long time?
Siberian cat, Siberian cat.

In that duel self-will
Who had only the ball in whose hand,

Whose heart? Is it yours, is it mine,
Did it fly at a gallop?

And yet, what was it?
What do you want so much and it’s a pity,
I still don’t know if I won,
I still don’t know if I won,
Is it defeated, is it defeated?

AND FINALLY I WILL SAY sheet music
Words by B. Akhmadulina
Music by A. Petrov

And finally I will say:
Goodbye love is not obligatory.
I'm going crazy. Or I rise

How you loved you sipped
Death. That's not the point.
How did you love? You ruined it.
But he ruined it so clumsily

Small temple work
Still doing it, but his hands have fallen,
And in a flock, diagonally
Smells and sounds go away.

And finally I will say:
Goodbye love is not obligatory.
I'm going crazy. Or I rise
To a high degree of madness.

I'VE BEEN DREAMING ABOUT YOU FOR THREE YEARS sheet music
Words by A. Fatyanov
Music by N. Bogoslovsky

I would like to compare you
With the nightingale's song,
On a quiet morning, with a May garden,
With flexible rowan,
With cherries, bird cherry,
My foggy distance
The most distant
The most desirable one.

How did this all happen?
What evenings?
For three years I dreamed of you,
And I met yesterday.
I don't know sleep anymore
I keep my dream
You, my dear,
I can't compare with anyone.

I would like to compare you
With the first beauty
That with your cheerful look
Touches the heart
What a light gait
Came up unexpectedly
The farthest
The most desirable.

Words and music by Marie Poiret






I was driving home... Two-horned moon




Spreading your pink veil across the sky,

And the swallow, rushing somewhere into the distance,





Oh, if I never woke up again...

1901

Performed by Alla Bayanova

The romance was first performed by the author in a play based on A. N. Pleshcheev’s play “In My Role.” Part of the repertoire of Kato Japaridze.

There are well-known romances by Marie Poiret with her own words “Swan Song”, “I Don’t Want to Die”, as well as with the music of other composers: “No, don’t say the decisive word” (B.V. Grodzky, G.K. Kozachenko), “Lush blossomed May, the roses shone with beauty" (A. N. Alferaki, G. A. Kozachenko).

Alla Bayanova

The same option is in the repertoire of Keto Japaridze (1901-1968). On the Pelageya disc (FeeLee Records, 2003) and in a number of other sources art. 9.:"Spreading the pink veil."

Pelageya sings with footage from the film "Turkish Gambit"

Maria Yakovlevna Poiret(1864 - after 1918)

Yesterday I posted in my diary a post on Marie Poiret’s romance “Swan Song,” which told in detail about her life and the history of creating romances. If someone looks at this post for the first time and is interested, please look in the “Retro Music” section and find a post on the romance “Swan Song”.


OPTIONS (2)

1. I was driving home

Words and music by M. Poiret

I was driving home, my soul was full
Unclear to myself, some new happiness.
It seemed to me that everything with such fate
They looked at me with such affection.

I was driving home... Two-horned moon
I looked out the windows of the boring carriage.
The distant bell of the morning bell
Sang in the air like a gentle string.

I drove home through a pink veil.
The beautiful dawn lazily woke up,
And the swallows, rushing somewhere into the distance,
We swam in the clear air.

I was driving home, I was thinking about you,
My thoughts were anxious and confused and torn.
A sweet slumber touched my eyes.
Oh, if I never woke up again...

In my opinion the best performance. Sings Rada Volshaninova

2. I was driving home

I was driving home... My soul was full
Some new happiness that was unclear to me.
It seemed to me that everything with such fate
They looked at me with such affection.

I was driving home... Dear moon
I looked out the windows of the boring carriage.
The distant bell of the morning bell
Sang in the air like a gentle string.

Spreading her pink veil, the beautiful dawn
I woke up lazily
And like a swallow, rushing somewhere into the distance,
I swam in the clear air.

I was driving home... I was thinking about you!
My thoughts were anxiously confused and torn.
A sweet slumber touched my eyes.
Oh, if I never woke up again!

John Shemyakin wrote quite well (in a humorous form, but the texture is true) about the history of the song and its author:
The minor Elizaveta Genrikhovna learned this hymn, enchanting with its unimaginable charm, for her extravagant grandfather. Everything that Genrikhovna does for me is aimed at extracting all possible benefits and forgiveness from me who is crying. I'm sentimental. And in this state he is defenseless, sweet and generous to everyone, unexpectedly.
I sincerely cried during the performance. First of all, because I will never tell my granddaughter that this romance was written by Maria Yakovlevna Poiret, a vaudeville actress with unimaginable power of enterprise.
There were two such masters of the trade of first and true love in the capital in those years: Masha Poiret and Motya Kshesinskaya. Masha Poiret wrote about “going home...”, based on Matilda Kshesinskaya’s story about a successful first rendezvous with a certain young man named Nikolai Aleksandrovich Romanov. After the rendezvous in Peterhof, it follows that Kshesinskaya goes home in the morning and is full of the brightest hopes for both. All sorts of late chamberlains look at her with affection and sympathy. Indescribable delight in the empyrean. Under the benevolent gaze of the sovereign, the ballerina falls asleep from tenderness right in the carriage. The hopes of the brilliant ballerina were fully justified. Everything is so incredibly successful! And Marie Poiret created a report-hymn to romance on this occasion. Listen to the romance again. Do you see how he sparkled with new colors of life and selfless girlish love?
Looking at her friend, Masha Poiret, who had to perform under the creative pseudonym Marusina (who in the capital at that time would go to the performances of a man named Poiret?), also somehow got together and married Count Alexei Anatolyevich Orlov-Davydov. In 1914. The count had some property, modestly valued at 17 million rubles, plus a house on the Promenade des Anglais. Plus the salary of the imperial master of ceremonies. Plus the count was trusting. He was interested in secret teachings and considered himself an initiated sage.
Masha Marusina married Orlov-Davydov in a deeply “interesting position.” She gave birth to a baby. The boy, the little Count Orlov-Davydov, the heir to the dynasty.
A year later, it turned out that Maria Poiret could not get pregnant due to some circumstances of her artistic youth, and she bought the child “according to some advertisement from midwife N.” For three hundred and fifty rubles. Well, the actress is fifty years old. What are the questions here?
Scandal, trial, divorce, then revolution. The Count will finally go into the occult. Maria received a pension from the Soviet government. Food was provided: jam, cereals, animal fats.
Lisa, sing a song to grandpa. Grandpa is as cynical as a ferret, but he adores you.

I WAS DRIVING HOME, MY SOUL WAS FULL...

Words and music by Marie Poiret

I was driving home... Two-horned moon

Spreading your pink veil across the sky,
And the swallow, rushing somewhere into the distance,

Oh, if I never woke up again...

The romance was first performed by the author in a play based on A. N. Pleshcheev’s play “In My Role.” Part of the repertoire of Kato Japaridze. The romances of Marie Poiret based on her own words “Swan Song”, “I Don’t Want to Die”, as well as to the music of other composers are known: “No, don’t say the decisive word” (B.V. Grodzky, G.K. Kozachenko), “Lush blossomed May, the roses shone with beauty" (A. N. Alferaki, G. A. Kozachenko).

Anthology of Russian romance. Silver Age. / Comp., preface. and comment. V. Kalugina. - M.: Eksmo Publishing House, 2005


The same version is in the repertoire of Keto Dzhaparidze (1901-1968) (Black Eyes: An Ancient Russian Romance. - M.: Eksmo Publishing House, 2004.). On the Pelageya disc (FeeLee Records, 2003) and in a number of other sources art. 9.: "Spreading the pink veil."

Maria Yakovlevna Poiret(1864 - after 1918)

Shadows of the past: Ancient romances. For voice and guitar / Comp. A. P. Pavlinov, T. P. Orlova. - St. Petersburg: Composer St. Petersburg, 2007.

OPTIONS (2)

1. I was driving home

Words and music by M. Poiret

I was driving home, my soul was full
Unclear to myself, some new happiness.
It seemed to me that everything with such fate
They looked at me with such affection.

I was driving home... Two-horned moon
I looked out the windows of the boring carriage.
The distant bell of the morning bell
Sang in the air like a gentle string.

I drove home through a pink veil.
The beautiful dawn lazily woke up,
And the swallows, rushing somewhere into the distance,
We swam in the clear air.

I was driving home, I was thinking about you,
My thoughts were anxious and confused and torn.
A sweet slumber touched my eyes.
Oh, if I never woke up again...

Take my heart into the ringing distance...: Russian romances and songs with notes / Comp. A. Kolesnikova. – M.: Sunday; Eurasia +, Polar Star +, 1996.

2. I was driving home

I was driving home... My soul was full
Some new happiness that was unclear to me.
It seemed to me that everything with such fate
They looked at me with such affection.

I was driving home... Dear moon
I looked out the windows of the boring carriage.
The distant bell of the morning bell
Sang in the air like a gentle string.

Spreading her pink veil, the beautiful dawn
I woke up lazily
And like a swallow, rushing somewhere into the distance,
I swam in the clear air.

I was driving home... I was thinking about you!
My thoughts were anxiously confused and torn.
A sweet slumber touched my eyes.
Oh, if I never woke up again!

Masterpieces of Russian romance / Ed.-comp. N.V. Abelmas. - M.: LLC “AST Publishing House”; Donetsk: “Stalker”, 2004. – (Songs for the Soul)., signature: music by an unknown author, words by M. Poiret.

NOTES FOR PIANO (6 sheets):

Kulev V.V., Takun F.I. Golden collection of Russian romance. Arranged for voice accompanied by piano (guitar). M.: Modern music, 2003.