Dalszöveg fordítások

Marina Tsvetayeva - Заводские (Zavodskiye) dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre


Translation

Factory


1
 
Stand in a laborer’s frown
The smoked hulls.
Over the soot sweep the curls
Moved by heaven.
 
In the breathed tea room loneliness
Wanders the greasy cup.
 
Cries out for righteousness
The outskirt’s last pipe.
 
Pipe! Pipe! Of foreheads distorted
The last one: we are here still!
What to death condemnation
In the complaint of last trumpet call!
 
As in your velvet satiety
Their pitiful howl comes thereafter!
What is buried alive
And hatching for slaughter!
 
And God? To very forehead is smoked,
Will not stand up! Waiting in vain!
Over the beds of hospitals and prisons
He by carnations is nailed.
 
Torment! Live meat!
It was and will be –
Till the end.
For all the songs, a mound,
And all despair is a nest:
 
Factory! Factory! Black lift-off
The factory is called.
To the despair of the factory pipe
Listen – for will be called
 
Factory. And no middleman
Will serve you then just so,
When over last city light
The final pipe will blow.
 
2
 
Book of eternity on people’s lips
Not just a leaf – just
At the last, last outbursts
Where beginning is grass
 
And beginning is truth… on a stone sowing,
Following bird droppings…
That last – final – farthest
Distant ones – the longest…
 
The furthest…
Says: come I will!
And in coffin still!
Hard to breathe – judge our case
And a pipe to slave.
 
That over the city of approved crimes,
Leperous children,
In smoky tin – like shameful pole
Like a raised finger.
 
Voice of mines and cellars,
Stunted stem foreheads!
Voice orphaned of and little,
Evil – and right in evil:
 
All the smoked, which the devil
Bought for the cover!
The voice of the racks and bunks,
Rafters and levers.
 
To whom – no garbage!
Myself – the last lumber!
The voice of all the voiceless
Under your whip – there!
 
Chirping are your cellars
Where without ray they are growing.
To whom came no rabble:
Self – and of alien shoulder!
 
Dare not move.
Was born – and lie down again!
The voice of little seamstresses
Pouring in the rain.
 
Black cough, as we see,
Lousy itching jealousy.
The shout, that is stained with blood:
There, where they beat and love…
 
Voice, beating in the dust
With forehead – of your meekness,
(Without a shirt proud voice
I will recognize!)
 
The nightly ode
Heaven, to your beauty!
All – that from the back door
Into life, and quietly
 
In the last, the last of all outposts,
There, where is right each one –
Or are disenfranched – standing on a stone,
In the splash of the first grass…
 
And towards, from an unknown
Tower – into a convict howl:
Voice of the truth of heaven
Against the truth of the ground.
 




Az előadó további dalszöveg fordításait megtalálhatod a következő linken: Marina Tsvetayeva

Az oldalon található minden zeneszöveg magyar fordítás másként dalszöveg fordítás vagy lyrics fordítás csak személyes és oktatási célokra használható fel.

Minden dalszöveg tulajdon és szerzői joga a szerzőket vagy a szám tulajdonosait illeti.

További dalszöveg fordítások

2024.11.23.

Putin's War Drags On





Putin's war drags on and on
Since his forces invaded Ukraine.
For two years now, Russian soldiers
Have followed his orders. Imagine the pain!
 

Actually, the Russian attack
Dates way back to twenty-fourteen
When Putin stole Ukrainian land.
The current invasion's a bloodier scene.
 

Life goes on for the rest of the world.
We work we play we party we feast.
Ukrainians are suffering,
But some people don't care in the least.
 

Extremist Republicans who kiss
The ring of king Trump, do not care
If Ukraine falls, or if the country
Is torn to shreds by the eastern bear.
 

If Putin is victorious, then
Other countries may fall as well.
People will suffer, and what's more,
The Russian brute will be hard to repel.
 

Pressure on Putin and aid to Ukraine
Are two ways to put an end to the war.
The dictator already has
A great deal to answer for.
 
2024.11.23.

Tiny Trunk Tyrant





You are a ruler of the largest country
You're lying Tsar of misinformation
You are a ruler of the largest country
You're lying Tsar of misinformation
 

You are a ruler of the largest country
You're ruthless King of KGB killers
You're lying Tsar of misinformation
You are a Tyrant with a tiny penis
 

You had appeared from a secret spy lair
As a sidekick of a drunkard leader
You brown nosed sneaky way to the top chair
Waged dirty wars with proud highland people
 

You played the system screwing it over
Your friend Winnie the Pooh bear kept your throne warm
You killed or jailed all worthy opponents
Then you began this gore Ukrainian war
 

You are a ruler of the largest country
You're ruthless King of KGB killers
You're lying Tsar of misinformation
You are a Tyrant with a tiny penis
Tiny Tyrant with a tiny penis
Tiny Tyrant with a tiny penis
Tiny Tyrant with a tiny penis
With a tiny penis, with a tiny penis
Ты тиран с маленькой писькой
Ты тиран с маленькой писькой
Ты тиран с маленькой писькой
С маленькой писькой, с маленькой писькой
 

Your missiles are your penis extensions
Look at these mighty and sexy shapes
Tanks, cannons and jets are your viagra pills
Without them it's small and down in shames
 

You are high on your doom nuclear weapons
You're drunk on sweet blood of your victims
Still, it won't help with your limp tiny thing
And you are hated just like Adolph Hitler
 

You will be judged by your own saddest people
You've sent great country back to the dark ages
Burn in hot Hell you bloodthirsty dictator
This is what on your grave will be written:
 

You are a ruler of the largest country
You're ruthless King of KGB killers
You're lying Tsar of misinformation
You are a Tyrant with a tiny penis
Tiny Tyrant with a tiny penis
Tiny Tyrant with a tiny penis
Tiny Tyrant with a tiny penis
With a tiny penis, with a tiny penis
Ты тиран с маленькой писькой
Ты тиран с маленькой писькой
Ты тиран с маленькой писькой
С маленькой писькой, с маленькой писькой
 

Tiny Tyrant...
Tiny Tyrant...
Tyrant...
 
2024.11.23.

Dicen





[Verso 1]
Dicen que
Dicen que la vida es corta, hay que vivirla ya
Dicen que hay que aprovechar el tiempo
Pero a mí no me va tanto la velocidad
Dicen que
Dicen que este mundo no es de sueños y que hay que trabajar
Dicen que no hay tiempo ni descuentos
Suerte que yo nunca he sido mucho de escuchar
 

[Estribillo]
Y ahora estamos tú y yo
Solos en la habitación
Y no hay nadie más que
Pueda еntrometerse еn mis sueños
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ah, ah
 

[Verso 2]
Quiero que
Quiero que el rencor pierda memoria y no haya nada que envidiar
Quiero que entendamos que la guerra
Nunca, nunca podrá ser en nombre del amor
 

[Estribillo]
Y ahora estamos tú y yo
Solos en la habitación
Y no hay nadie más que
Pueda entrometerse en mis sueños
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ah, ah
 
2024.11.22.

Polka 'Twenty-Third' (dance)





The Polish girl went to harvest rye, |
But she forgot to take the sickle. | 2
She took the sickle but forgot the grain,
And that Polish girl was at home.
 

The Polish girl went to harvest rye, |
But she forgot to take the sickle. | 2
She took the sickle but forgot the grain, |
And that Polish girl was at home. | 2
 

The Polish girl went to harvest rye, |
But she forgot to take the sickle. | 2
She took the sickle but forgot the grain, |
And that Polish girl was at home.' | 2