As long as Ivan-Chai blooms, As long as Ivan-Chai blooms, I won't need any books - none other than you… I won't need them, I won't need them… Take a canvas of snowy white, Dab it with green and yellow, Streaks of blinding blue, Add a few trees and the trees will tell you That all I ever wanted turned to wind, The wind that kisses their boughs… And I say thank you for this joy, I say thank you for this joy… As long as Ivan-Chai blooms, As long as Ivan-Chai blooms, I won't need any books - none other than you… I won't need them, I won't need them… And this is the perfect method; It's such a shame we're so impatient 'Cause this is the perfect method… Sooner or later we'll surely meet again And what was once our pain will turn into wind; Flames will consume my heart… And I'll say thank you for this joy, I'll repeat thank you for this joy. As long as Ivan-Chai blooms, As long as Ivan-Chai blooms, I won't need any books - none other than you… I won't need them, I won't need them…
I end this translation with a 1987 excerpt from the Soviet radio show "Youth." It may clear up some of the debate I've seen at BoB about the meaning of "Ivan-Chai" and explain why I chose to leave it untranslated: Interviewer: Boris, tell me: "Ivan-Chai" - what's it about, grass?
BG: Yeah, it's about grass.
[General laughter.]
BG: But then, with us, everything's about grass.
ROMANOV: Basically, all Aquarium songs are about grass.
BG: No, it's a kind of symbol. Of the people. As long as Ivan-Chai blooms, the summer wouldn't dream of ending…