Verkhovye - Communication Tube dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre

Communication Tube

My grin tears my face ear to ear
Because of the two-weeks old beliashes. 1
Jogging in spot in my heart.
Naked women fluttered about,
I was drawing a hole in the wallpaper
With a pencil.
Leprosy's sad, plague drinks,
Accordions in madhouses shriek.
Some loose change for treatment.
They drove me out with a stick from the roadway
Where I laid my head.
The priests laugh: 'Get away!'
Because they've fooled these beggars
In the yellow narrow windows.
A green frowsy corridor,
The tunnel of bunkhouses and bureaus.
Whoever love or despise me,
It's a communication tube.
Losing my religion.
 
A rat's scraping inside the wall, can you hear it?
 
A muggy field, Tyoply Stan2,
A teacher walking between the school desks,
Spitting into copy-books and diaries
While in his soul there's a hangover
And the wind of the orange line3.
A man in a tired old cap with a tired old face
Smells of shit.
A portable electric coffin,
The abyssal howling of wombs
Squeezes throuh the scorched throat.
On a sweaty bed sheet
We'll see Nietzsche on a horse,
And he will hug us lovingly,
A common man like you, a common man like me
In a wifebeater shirt.
So all the junk spilled
And dribbled before our eyes.
Meat leftovers on the floor.
We take the needle
Of effortless holiness,
Of childish insolence,
Of wise tastelessness.
 
A rat's scraping inside the wall, can you hear it?
 

• 1. See
• 2. A neighborhood in Southern Moscow
• 3. Line #6 in Moscow metro going to Tyoply Stan

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