Voivode (Old Slavic, literally "war-leader" or "war-lord") is a Slavic title that originally denoted the principal commander of a military force. It derives from the word vojevoda, which in early Slavic meant the bellidux, i.e. the military commander of an area, but it usually had a greater meaning. In Byzantine times it was used to refer to mainly military commanders of Slavic populations, especially in the Balkans. In medieval Serbia it meant a high-ranking official and before the Ottoman occupation the commander of a military area. During Ottoman times, Voivode was the title borne by the ruler of a province, whose powers included the administration, security and tax collection under a special regime. According to the chronicle of the Voutsas monastery, the Slavic title of “voivode”, which prevailed in certain areas of Epirus and Thessaly before the Ottoman occupation, used to denote the leader of a Vlach community or family. The same title was borne by the Ottoman official who oversaw the “Chora Metzovo” each time. The word gradually came to denote the governor of a province.
The Voyevoda (Russian: Воевода, The Voyevoda), Op. 3, is an opera in 3 acts and 4 scenes, by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky with a libretto written by Alexander Ostrovsky and based on his play The Voyevoda (A Dream on the Volga) (Russian: Воевода (Сон на Волге)).
The opera was composed between March 1867 and July 1868, and it received its first performance on 11 February [OS January 30] 1869 at the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow. It was a benefit for Alexandra Menshikova.
In the 1870s Tchaikovsky destroyed the manuscript full score of the opera, while recycling much of the first act in his The Oprichnik (1870–1872). The subject of The Voyevoda was thus left available to his former pupil Anton Arensky to compose as the opera Dream on the Volga in 1888. During the Soviet period The Voyevoda was posthumously reconstructed from surviving orchestral and vocal parts and the composer's sketches.
Tunnel seems so long
Touching the bottom
A slim reflexion
Punctured my vision
I didn't notice
Beside the last door
Standing on nothing
There was a mirror
Even inside... scrutinized
I am, he is, the face I hate
Refracting cells and prismed self
Who's X who's y in a blank place
I can't believe this is my image
Like the mirror without a frame
Baring a scarred side
Open in daylight
Recoil and reply
Farside of my pride
The introspection
Ruptures the blood core
Magnification
Draws out the mirror
Seeking me out
What will he find?
I am, he is, a repugnant state
I can't shake this curiosity
My privacy starts to fade
I can't believe this is my image
Like the mirror
A polar exchange
He gloating over my fleeting image
He used to be me
He knows who is free
How long will I wait... here
Stuck in this void place... here
I can't believe I am the immage
Within the mirror
Into the chrome lake
The glass is broken