Dalszöveg fordítások

Shorty - Božićna dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre


English Align paragraphs


Christmas song

Dear Santa, I’m writing a letter to you again
Maybe you didn’t get the last one or we misunderstood each other
Mom says that you won’t bring me anything this Christmas again
Then you could’ve at least taken away my little brother with you
 
The one you brought last year when I asked you for a Sony with a chip
And you, Santa, always the same every year, you reward me with a twig
Maybe it’s because our house isn’t lighted
But from the twigs u got me I can already make a broom
 
It's useful to my dad cause then he has something to beat me with
When I do some damage and he has to pay for it
And if you’re the same as he is, then I know what’s the catch
He is drunk every day so he has a red nose like you
 
Do you maybe have a brother called Božić Bata I’ll marry that girl
I’ll marry that girl
 

With those big black eyes
She disturbed his thoughts
Sitting on the couch
She acted like a kitten
Stroking his hand
And he, slowly giving in
Talked to her about wedding confetti
But all his relatives
Were grumbling under their breath
That little girl
Would go out at midnight
And come back in the morning
But he wouldn’t believe it
And kept saying this:
 

I’d put my hand, my hand in the fire
Leave me alone, I know what I'm doing
I’ll marry that girl
I’ll marry that girl
 

And for his bride-to-be
He’d furnished
Two rooms and a kitchen
And then, as a salesman
He’d also found a steady job
But so sacrificed
He traveled night and day
But the whole neighborhood
Had already whispered to him
That a young plumber
Came around too often
To unclog the sink
But he wouldn’t believe it
And kept saying this:
 

I’d put my hand, my hand in the fire
He put it in the fire, and do you know what happened?
Now he no longer has a hand
Now he no longer has a hand
Now he no longer has a hand
 

Muzio Scevola!
 


Unknown Artist (Greek) - Μάλι μι μάτσαν τα ούδια (Máli mi mátsan ta oúdia) dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre
2024.10.11.

Mother they destroyed my flowers





Mother they destroyed my flowers
Who destroyed them Marouda mine
The Albanoudis and the Kaltsounoudis' kids
And the young one, Kamioudis
But if they destroyed them Marouda mine
I'll give you to Albanoudis
I'll give you to Albanoudis
I'll make you a shortfurred one
And as you'll be going out Marou, wherever
Everyone will abide by it Marou mine