A keresés eredménye oldal 2

You were dancing, no, you were dancing

You were dancing, no, you were dancing,
I remember exactly, there were little vodka and big skies, yeah,
By God, it was summer. And there was blue flashlight until dawn.
You have forgotten, but it happened, and more you were singing.
The leaves were rustling. On what date? That's not the point.
That's not the point!
And the matter is, that I lie shamelessly and it's so badly, that
You can fall in love with lies and lies.
And life passes by.
 

That Which I Must Say

I don't know, - why and for whom this was necessary,
Who sent them to certain death with a steady hand...
Only it was so useless, evil and unnecessary,
The way that they were sent to their eternal rest.
 
Indifferent onlookers silently pulled their fur coats tighter around themselves,
And some woman with a distorted face
Kissed one of the departed on his blue lips
And hurled her engagement ring at the priest.
 
They covered the deceased with fir-trees and mud,
And went to their homes, to discuss -
That it is time to put an end to this outrage,
Soon already, we will all begin to starve.
 
And no one thought to just fall to their knees,
And to tell those boys, that in a broken country,
Even the bravest feats - are just steps,
Never-ending abysses...to an unreachable spring!
 
I don't know, - why and for whom this was necessary,
Who sent them to certain death with a steady hand...
It was so useless, evil and unnecessary,
The way that they were sent to their eternal rest.
 

Fishing for Love

I don't want to fish for love anymore,
I don't want to anymore mother,
There's too much pain when love flies south,
And leaving a poor man crying. 1
 
My baby's gone,
With an immature bad-boy, 2
I'm alone tonight,
And I cannot sleep. 3
 
I don't want to fish for love anymore,
I just don't want to mom,
There isn't happiness when my love flies south,
And leaving me with sour tears.
 
At Uncle Fernand's bistro,
 
It's the calypso that started it all, 4
I'll spend a few minutes,
But I'll stay at my table. 5
 
I didn't want to fish for love in the first place,
Lord what a beautiful woman,
She has red lips and big eyes that shine,
I don't think I know her well enough.
 
Care for a dance, mademoiselle 6
To please a poor man,
But sir, I'm only a maid,
Be good my dear.
 
I don't want to fish for love anymore,
You are very beautiful,
And if I tell you this, is it a sin,
 
It's the truth, my dear,
 
Walk with me beneath the palms,
Dear God what a lovely dress,
It'd be best to take it off,
To avoid getting something on it.
 
I don't want to fish for love anymore,
But talk to me like a scoundrel
Or tell me where you got those lovely suckers
And a body that abandons itself 7
 
Give me a kiss dear,
To please a poor man,
How about we stay here the night,
My pain, she's gone.
 
I don't want to fish for love anymore
 
Because I made my prize catch,
She took off her little shirt,
And now I'm going to feast.
 
And now I'm going to feast
And now I'm going to feast
 

• 1. This line has hit me in the feels department in a way that makes me feel self-conscious about myself.
• 2. Lit. 'With a naughty man'
• 3. I think that's what this means
• 4. I think this is referring to Hommer's Odyssey?
• 5. He's in a bistro, I don't think there are benches but I don't know how the French do tables. I was in Paris a few years ago and it seemed normal.
• 6. Mademoiselle is Miss, my French teacher told me it is used when talking about younger women though but maybe she was wrong. I like the sound for this line though.
• 7. Help

Оn branches of a wounded cottonwood

There's a light wind breath that trembling branches softly
Оn a high and wounded cottonwood.
The abandoned outer roads of Sevastopól port
Give no Moon above, no other good.
 
This night on and over dead ash city blocks,
Trough the gloomy darkness of a fog,
Seaman's walked and he said fairwell to all
Bastions, ships and sail harbor folks.
 
He went by the coves that look rueful,
Wher' every little thing is so dear...
In a churchyard, over mossy graves and ruins
Guards have turned their rifles right on him.
 
He stood still and his blue-white old sailor top
Gave the shadow spots of dried blood
He said: 'So, it was a richly hunt for good.
Your black pack is slaughtered t'my content'.
 
'If the ocean wind would get its jolly fun in bay
Who is able t'stand across its need !
There were plenty of you wanting Sevastopól land
But the few of you'll get luck to leave.'
 
'Aren't you've dropped the anchor here too simple, yey?
Storm will come and blow you all away...'
Just in a frenzy rifles have rang out some
Dawn has splashed his blood to the blue Heavens way.
 
Wind is howling as a pack of wild beasts
And the lights are twinkling out of bays,
Patrols walk. And their German bayonets
Are swinging its flat steel above the waves.
 
There's a light wind breath that trembling branches softly
Оn a high and wounded cottonwood.
The abandoned outer roads of Sevastopól port
Give no Moon above, no other good.
 

To love some is a heavy cross...

To love some is a heavy cross,
But you are lovely without twists,
And the secret of your charm
Is equal to the mystery of life.
 
In spring one hears the whisper of dreams
and the rustle of news and truths.
You belong to the family of such basics.
Your meaning, like air, is unselfish.
 
Its easy to wake up and see,
Shake the clutter of words out of one's heart
And live without clutter evermore.
None of this is hard to do.
 

We are few, but we exist

Niko Pulić, Luka Rajić
Ilko Čulić, Đuka Čaić
Žumbul,
Gobac, Ivo Pattiera
 
Divas, and Tutić
a real cloud,
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
Mudić,
Ševa, Jajan,
Branka Bebić,
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
The
Este, Hamed Bangoura
, Ico Voljevica
 
Gardijada for freedom
Says [špuk] and Norijada
and
 
Hello, I cracked up
listing
all these names
 
, Špiro Guberina
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
Svilan,
Lokas, Knjaz and , and two of us as well
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
We are few, but we exist
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 
We are few, but we exist
It's not important, we will crush everyone's dreams
 

I won’t be yours

Once upon a time there was a girl
And I firmly believed I would love her till the end
I would’ve given anything for you but I died that day
You replaced me with someone else because of some car
 
It’s been some time, I’m different, you’re different
I succeeded, you remained a whore
You’re gonna hear it from me every time
 
The sad women are in the expensive cars
They don’t have love, only money
You wanted it in cash, right? Be alone
Who is it that you love, who? I won’t be yours
 
The most miserable women are in the expensive cars
They don’t have love, only money
You wanted it in cash, right? Be alone
Who is it that you love, who? I won’t be yours
 
It’s written on the candles
If you light them, don’t leave them (unsupervised)
They could turn everything into ashes
Our love is the same –
if you leave it unattended1, it will burn your house down
 
It’s been some time, I’m different, you’re different
I succeeded, you remained a whore
You’re gonna hear it from me every time
 
The sad women are in the expensive cars
They don’t have love, only money
You wanted it in cash, right? Be alone
Who is it that you love, who? I won’t be yours
 
The most miserable women are in the expensive cars
They don’t have love, only money
You wanted it in cash, right? Be alone
Who is it that you love, who? I won’t be yours
 

• 1. Literal translation, 'If you forget about it'

Song to Stalin's good health

Accept, Great Stalin, our Father,
The love of hearts devoted to the homeland,
Accept the deference of your people
On your joyous birthday.
 
Chorus:
We all sing praise to your deeds,
Live, our Leader, live to make us happy!
 
You illuminated our epoch with clear light,
You are the closest person to us all,
With you, we went the glorious, difficult road,
Fighting for the honour of our native land.
 
Chorus.
 
You lead us on Lenin's path,
You call us all to new exploits,
With you, we entered sunny life,
Fighting for peace and building communism!
 
Chorus:
We all sing praise to your deeds,
Live, our Leader, live to make us happy!
 

Song of Shoals

We shall tell you how we got stuck,
How we once ran aground,
We sailed, sailed and suddenly stopped,
Let's be honest – it’s very awkward.
 
There is no worse situation
Than to sit without moving,
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho – it’s boring and damp,
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho – we have to wait for a tug.
 
From this place, as they say,
You can neither go up, nor go down,
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho – nowhere, mates,
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho – to go from the shoal.
 
Seagulls circle above us merrily,
The fish laugh at us loudly,
Ha-ha, ha-ha, the river is splashing
Haha, haha, what a place!
 
If you sail around the world one day,
Do not forget this song,
In everything you do, moving towards a goal,
You have to see all the shoals.
 

Little Boat

The birches outside Moscow
Rustled in the distance,
A boat sailed and rocked
Along the Yauza River,
A boat sailed and rocked
Along the Yauza River.
 
Long ago we went away
To all ends of the country,
But we are still faithful
To our friendship, as before,
But we are still faithful
To our friendship, as before.
 
Above us is the sky of the Motherland,
And it is so light around,
As if we sailed
On a boat in our youth,
As if we sailed
On a boat in our youth,
 
The water churns under the oars,
The rudder will not tremble in the hand,
The boat rushes further
On the morning river,
The boat rushes further
On the morning river.
 
Our path does not end,
The river's space is vast,
And a fair breeze
Drives the boat forward,
And a fair breeze
Drives the boat forward.
 

Ivan, Boris and I

And since we were kids I remember that
We were going for walks
Along the rivers in the middle of flowers
We were singing songs
Under a completely golden sun
 
Antonio, Ivan, Boris and I
Rebecca, Paola, Giovanna and I
 
Then at the party in my town
We were dancing all day
We never got tired
And at school on Monday
We were still together
 
Antonio, Ivan, Boris and I
Rebecca, Paola, Giovanna and I
Antonio, Ivan, Boris and I
Rebecca, Paola, Giovanna and I
 
We were four women, but
There were three guys
I loved him
And another was in love with me
It couldn't work like this
 
Antonio, Ivan, Boris and I
Rebecca, Paola, Giovanna and I
Antonio, Ivan, Boris and I
Rebecca, Paola, Giovanna and I
 
All of this complicated
The sweetness of those days a bit
Then a few years passed
And school ended
And love separated us
 
Antonio, Ivan, Boris and I
Rebecca, Paola, Giovanna and I
Antonio, Ivan, Boris and I
Rebecca, Paola, Giovanna and I
 
We never got married to our friends
Because happiness
Was found here and there
We all still write to each other
But many, many more
 
Antonio, Ivan, Boris and I
Rebecca, Paola, Giovanna and I
Antonio, Ivan, Boris and I
Rebecca, Paola, Giovanna and I
 
Saša, Mario, David and I
Barbara, Mimì, Nataša and I
Saša, Mario, David and I
Barbara, Mimì, Nataša and I
 

Paloma Blanca

When the Sun says hello again
Like a sunflower, golden yellow
And when the sky turns blue
May you have a nice trip
 
Fly into the sky1
That you know oh so well
And fly over all the mountains
To tell her I said Hi2
 
Fly paloma blanca3
Fly to my hometown
Fly paloma blanca
Just know, I'll be with you too
With you, I'll be with you too
 
I'm writing her a letter again
In which I tell her I'm hers
Though we're not close anymore
I'm beside her every moment
 
Fly paloma blanca
Fly to my hometown
Fly paloma blanca
Just know, I'll be with you too
With you, I'll be with you too
 
With you, I'll be with you too
 
I'm following him in my thoughts
It's like he's here with me
How I want to get him back
That's love, he knows about it
 
Fly paloma blanca
Fly to my hometown
Fly paloma blanca
Just know, I'll be with you too
With you, I'll be with you too
 
Fly paloma blanca
 

• 1. Lit. 'fly into the heights'
• 2. Lit. 'to give her greetings from me'
• 3. 'White dove' in spanish

Everything's great at the Italiano

We're in Italy, it's vacation time
And here comes August, the year advances
Happy to come back to France, yeah, yeah
But we suffocate as soon as we're home
 
Everything's great at the Italiano
The Italiano, the Italiano
In Paris flows the Po
This fashion that goes sano
That goes sano, that goes sano
Lasts since a long-a-timo
 
Venice and Stromboli
Florence and Naples
Memories that bind us
It's delirious
And France's going crazy
 
Everything's great at the Italiano
The Italiano, the Italiano
The hymn or the gogo
Signorina, per favor
Let's sing again and again
Italy is our amor (x2)
 
We canoodled with England
We had the whole Earth over
But these are mostly short-lived affairs
Whereas, this time, true love it is
 
Everything's great at the Italiano
The Italiano, the Italiano
The song becomes bel canto
Sofia the Napolitana, politana, politana
Makes the people dream
 
The Cadillacs flee away from the Ferraris
Let's forget the whisky
Waiter, bring some Campari
 
Everything's great at the Italiano
The Italiano, the Italiano
The sun's singing up there
Next year, it's decided
Without a doubt we're staying here
We're naturalized
Italia got annexed
Tagliatelle and spaghetti
Mortadelle and Marini
Carosone and slice of Brie
Lo hey!
 

I drink

Versions: #4
I drink
Systematically
To forget my wife's friends
I drink
Systematically
To forget all my troubles
 
I drink
Any sneaky pete
As long as it's twelve point five proof
I drink
The worst plonk
It's disgusting, but makes time go by
 
Is life so funny
Is life so lively
I ask those two questions
Is life worth living
Is love worth being cheated on
I ask those two questions
That nobody ever answers... and
 
I drink
Systematically
To forget the next day
I drink
Systematically
To forget I'm not twenty anymore
 
I drink
Whenever as I can
To be drunk, to avoid seeing my face
I drink
Without enjoying it
To avoid realizing I should end it...
 

Golden autumn

Autumn. Such a magic place!
Open to every heart to amaze
With clearings of forest trails,
Peeped in lakes with pure grace.
 
Admiring the fabulous pictures
Of fairy-tale golden halls
Slender ashes, elms and aspens
We delight this beauty all.
 
The hoop of yellow graceful lime
Is like a crown on a bride!
A birch under a gorgeous veil
Looks like a virgin newlywed!
 
Brightly coloured leaves fly beneath
And cover all the ditches, pits…
The wings in yellow maple trees
Look like in gilded frames indeed.
 
September trees are very fair
And at dawn they stand in pairs
The gentle sunset on their bark
Leaves an amber trace as a mark.
 
The leaves are twirling slowly
And falling gently down
And everyone can clearly feel
The rustling leaves around.
 
Sounds at the end of the lanes
Echo at a bluffy slope.
And the dawn of cherry shade
 
Autumn. Such an ancient nook
Of old books, clothes, weapons!
Where extremely severe cold
Scrolls through the treasure catalog.
 

Harvest Festival in the Workers' Cultural Centre

It doesn't matter how much we sang – it was as good as if were silent,
That's why our holy water is now dead.
The wheels of sorrow have run over us,
And here we go to the harvest festival in the workers' cultural centre.
 
It's time to refrain, but how do you refrain?
[How do you] leave this zone, pull the wires out of yourself?
And Rose from the State Timber Enterprise and Mary the Wedding Bird
Are dying for a ticket
For the harvest festival in the workers' cultural centre.
 
We know the machine is utterly broke,
We know there's no road here and never has been.
Close your eyes so you don't see a faun creeping in the field,
A star fallen from the sky is knocking at the door.
The harvest festival in the workers' cultural centre.
 
Black soot red as a flag,
Blown up trains among the ancient ruins,
Under the feet of the passers-by are paintings from Hermitage,
The conductor is completely deaf –
The harvest festival in the workers' cultural centre.
 
It doesn't matter how much we sang – it was as good as if were silent,
That's why our holy water is now dead.
And on the starry night I will wait on the quay.
We're in the beginning yet. The harvest festival in the workers' cultural centre.
 

The Laments of Progress

Formally, to make his court, 1
We would discuss our love
To better prove his lust
We would offer our hearts
 
But now, it has changed a lot.
This changes, that changes 2
To seduce the dear angel
We have to slip our ear
 
Oh Gudule! 3
Come and kiss me!
And I will give you:
A fridge,
A beautiful scooter,
A fancy food processor, 4
A Dunlopillo, 5
A fancy cooker,
with a glass oven,
A zillion cutlery,
And cake shovels. 6
 
A blender 7
to make the vinaigrette,
A gorgeous ventilator,
To take away the odors. 8
Heated-blankets,
A waffle gun, 9
A plane for two,
And together we’ll be happy!
 
Formerly, when he arrived,
We would worry
That the gloomy air around us would leave
Into the dishes
 
Now what do you want!
Life is so expensive!
You said: go to your mother’s place!
And you would keep it all!
 
Oh Gudule!
Apologize!
Or I will take back,
My fridge,
My cutlery cabinet,
My iron sink,
My oil stove, 10
 
My wax shoes,
My iron-slugs,
My ice stools,
And my hunting dogs. 11
My blender,
The filthy trash,
And the french-fry cutter!
 
With the towel warmers,
With the potato cannons, 12
The ripe tomatoes,
The chicken filet.
 
But very, very quickly,
We get a visit,
From a sweet little one
That you offered us a heart
So we cave,
Because he have to help you,
And we will live like this,
Until next time,
And we will live like this,
Until next time,
And we will live like this. 13
 

• 1. When he says formally he is using it like an archaism, what it means is that this is what used to happen, back in the past, the old ways of it.
• 2. Made a bit more sense in English that way
• 3. A French name, presumably who the man in question is trying to seduce
• 4. Atomixer is NOT a real word, however, it is a made up word describing food processors. Given the theming of the song, this made sense with him saying “a fancy food processor
• 5. Unless the word has changed, he is talking about the fancy pillow company
• 6. Makes more sense than cake shovles
• 7. I know this means Turnstile/revolving door, however with the next line being “To make the vinaigrette”, it makes a lot more sense saying blender
• 8. Yes, again, I am making assumptions for sanity. This line literally translates to “To eat the odor”, well, the ventilator does that, literally, but it sounds weird saying that a ventilator is eating odors, it makes more sense it takes them away
• 9. Some antique from the French Cavalry in WWI, very rare project between the French and the Belgians, wasn’t until the Maginot line that they would be seen again. I kid. Not too sure here, another over-exaggerated sentiment I’m assuming. Also, desole for that horrible joke.
• 10. That sounds dangerous
• 11. I’m assuming dogs because he is saying “Hunting Rascals” not too sure though if a native could help me on this that would be great
• 12. Alas! Another very rare weapon from the French in WWI! Seen mostly next to the blue and red uniformed French soldiers marching in a single line, firing their ~51mm spuds at the enemies. It was a war of nutrition after all…
• 13. He is talking about a child here, that a child has come, and they have to give in and accept the child’s heart because, well, you’re an a-hole parent for not doing so.

To me, music is a form of speech, and just like speech, music should be heard to all regardless of barriers in place. So by translating you're letting other people open up to a world that is alien to them, a world where many who listen to the Russian, German and French music I listen to, is not strange or weird because they do not understand what the singer is singing. By having translations music can share cultural and political ideas, or really just ideas, around without barrier, and allow for discussion over meaning and purpose instead of trivial pursuit.

Time To Cut The Loose Ends

Please let me interrupt your eternal discussions,
Please let me shatter all you hold dear and crush it.
Time is unrelenting, it is like a wolf bitch,
While we all sit in here, it rushes without hitch.
 
Oh, how I'd wish for my soul to live with gods on mount tops,
Instead the folks play football and kick it with their jackboots,
They trample on most sacred, for my soul can't escape them,
And then without warning it'll drop dead like a great ape.
 
How can we still live here's [a] great mystery for sure,
[When] everybody yells: 'Up!', but deep down we are all moored,
[Still] banging heads on walls, thinking all will change some day,
Who cares [anyway], it is time to croak, I say.
 
There is time to die and time to be newborn,
There is time to hug and time to shy away from,
[There's] time to bow down and time to buck the old trends,
And here it comes: time to cut the loose ends.
 
I begged guardian angels to intervene in my case,
[As] I looked at the heavens and I saw their faces,
[Then] I stepped to the stream, withered by the great thirst,
[Here] I stand on the bank but I can't enter twice now.
 
I would be better off, living like a cloisterer,
To avoid the flame and live without worrying.
[My] body is my cage, my soul's a captive prisoner.
Enough, set me aflame. It's time to die and finish it.
 
© St.Sol @ LT: all rights reserved.
-
Ok, I get it that most of you just can't bring yourselves
to pressing 'Thanks' when you have already enjoyed
and probably sung an equirhythmic rhymed translation
and then realized that you couldn't have done a better
one yourself. Yet, avoiding this gesture implicitly helps
to promote other, often subpar work on this site. St.

Scandal

Listen Mia Borisavljevic - Scandal.
 
You know to wake up my glow in eyes
You know how to I be awake at nights,
And know that with you never there is boredom
Cause that that you do with me, you do best
 
Who are you, angel or devil
You kiss me, like you knew
That my ego has fallen low
And you wake it up, oh, let it go wild
 
Every night with you is scandal
Every morning everything to me goes genus: manta
Who survives will talk everywhat
Everything to me is kneading, reality and what not
Every night with you is drama
This is not normal with us
Not give me to stay alone
With you life is and expensive advertisement
 
You know to wake to me a beast in gaze
You know to follow me in every movement
And you know to find what is missing
Cause that that you do with me, you do best
Who are you, angel or devil
You kiss me, like you knew
That my ego has fallen low
And you wake it up, oh, let it go wild
 
Every night with you is scandal
Every morning everything to me goes genus: manta
Who survives will talk everywhat
Everything to me is kneading, reality and what not
Every night with you is drama
This is not normal with us
Not give me to stay alone
With you life is and expensive advertisement
 
Every night with you is scandal
Every morning everything to me goes genus: manta
Who survives will talk everywhat
Everything to me is kneading, reality and what not
Every night with you is drama
This is not normal with us
Not give me to stay alone
With you life is and expensive advertisement
 

For those who are not around

It seems that I can depict all with words,
Foundation formed by these images:
Clouds above our heads,
Clattering of a tram, amble of a horseshoe,
Cuneiform of canals and buildings,
Whims of the store signs,
Tongue-tied articulation of my wishes,
Flashing and screaming window ads,
Prattle of dreams, tremor of repentance,
Fairytale told on the late rainy nights -
Only all of this is hidden behind an invisible edge,
Where you no longer dwell and thus world is unfinished.
 

Rumours in town

I know, I wake up in 2
then I turn down alarm for little more sleep.
And when day pass, like a maniac
I get ready for go out.
 
Because you, wake up in 3
your mates, they are all monkeys
but they let you know what they seen
so you evaluated it
 
Rumours in town say that I am all over town
wherever they call me, i go
shadow of past woman, wasting her life
They say i´m crazy
Rumours In town say that I go out with everybody.
she was not like that before, she wants to make him angry
Rumours in town say. rumours in town say,
and I´m not alive.
 
Night, hundred of maniacs
go hunting, want my number
but I don´t want it, I search for your glance
to be mine again.
 
Because you, wake up in 3
your mates, they are all monkeys
but they let you know what they seen
so you evaluated it
 
Rumours in town say that I am all over town
wherever they call me, i go
shadow of past woman, wasting her life
They say i´m crazy
Rumours In town say that I go out with everybody.
she was not like that before, she wants to make him angry
Rumours in town say. rumours in town say,
and I´m not alive.
 
Rumours in town say that I am all over town
wherever they call me, i go
shadow of past woman, wasting her life
They say i´m crazy
Rumours In town say that I go out with everybody.
she was not like that before, she wants to make him angry
Rumours in town say. rumours in town say,
and I´m not alive.
 

Roschin's love song

Young and tender lass,
why didn't you cross my path
in those distant years
of my youthful spring?
My hair has turned grey,
how could I help it?
Why have you crossed my path
only now?
 
Among my peers I forgot
how many years went away.
Your shapely youthfullness
remembered me of that.
My mind is filled with
regrets of my spring
that has passed forever, without you.
 
My grey hair is so afraid
of your curls.
You look even younger
when I'm near.
We shall not rejoice in our meeting,
for our fates can't be one.
You are my last love
and my suffering.
 
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Cinematographe

When I was six years old
The first time
Daddy's taking me to the movies
I found that
More thrilling than anything
There was on the screen
Funny guys
Mustaches
Proud swashbuckler
Some who kill each other
Every time i find
A hair in the dish
A piano played atmospheric things
Guillaum 'Tell or the open air of Trouvère
And all the public
In quivering
Going for these good people
It was cheap
We had for his three francs
 
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, as day
Blonde, blonde, blonde, blonde, as love
A dream is on the screen
And in the dark room
Hands are looking, hands are found
Timidly
Station, train station, station, station, here we go again
And in the room more than one heart beats
The car where she thinks she is safe
Just crash on the floor
With a broken axle
The bandit will be able to put the hand
On the money, it's tragic
No of a dog
It's over, everything comes on
See you next Wednesday
 
Now this is
More my dad
Who accompanies me to the movies
Because he plants his cabbages
There not far from Saint Cucupha
But I met
Attila
A mustachioed guy like that
He loves to go on Wednesday
In the cinemas
Of course it is dev'nu the cinemascope
But it always rams and it gallops
And it stays still as before
Filled with cov'boill's lawlessness
And vigilantes who come to poke
Their big foot in the dish
 
Station, railway station, railway station, railway station, Gary Cooper
Approaching the ravine of hell
Be careful poor moron
Alan Ladd is not far away
At five hundred meters it is a ball
In a bread crouton
Station, station, station, station, during that time
I feel that I am in his big arm
The armchair where I was sure
Do not stop this 'raw' from trying
Kissing me
I did not see if Gary would win
But it's the permanent cinema
My darling, remember, we stayed for a year
And we had a lot of kids
 

Ah! If I had one franc fifty cents

Ah! If I had one franc fifty cents
I'll have two francs fifty cents soon
Ah! If I had two francs fifty cents
I'll soon have three francs fifty cents
Ah! If I had three francs fifty cents
I'll have four francs fifty cents soon
Ah! If I had four francs fifty cents
 
It would soon make me a hundred cent under
 

No One Will Be In The House...

No one will be in the house -
Only twilight's random shapes.
Wintry day will calmly browse
Through half-open window drapes.
 
Only fleeting mossy flicker
Of the falling wet white clumps,
Only roofs and snow the tricker,
And except them there're no humps.
 
And again the hoarfrost drawings,
And again the last year's gloom
Will arouse my somber longings
For the other winter bloom.
 
And again they'll spark my heartache
With yet unforgiven guilt,
Lack of firewood at daybreak'll
Squeeze the cross of window sill.
 
But, completely unexpected,
Drapes will shake from anxious doubt, -
You will enter, unsuspected,
Like the Future's silent sprout.
 
In the doorway you'll appear,
Wearing simply something white,
Just like white cloth, cold, austere,
From which snowflakes're sewn in flight.
 
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Penance

If you allowed me
To enter your heart
And put down roots
These two hands
Would live for you
And you would be safe
 
I would tie your
Lips to mine
With you, life makes sense
And it's most valuable
 
Love is not a penance
Washed with tears
But a safe harbor
A place for a soul to live in
 
In front of you, I poured out
The heart full of pearls
I fought for you
I fought, and I lost
 
I would tie your
Lips to mine
With you, life makes sense
And it's most valuable
 
Love is not a penance
Washed with tears
But a safe harbor
A place for a soul to live in
 
In front of you, I poured out
The heart full of pearls
I fought for you
I fought, and I lost
 
Love is not a penance
Washed with tears
But a safe harbor
A place for a soul to live in
 
In front of you, I poured out
The heart full of pearls
I fought for you
I fought, and I lost
 
I fought, and I lost
 
Love is not a penance
Washed with tears
But a safe harbor
A place for a soul to live in
 
In front of you, I poured out
The heart full of pearls
I fought for you
I fought, and I lost
 

Someone Rich

(America, Austrailia, Arabia, Africa, Spain, Romania, The Philipenes, Columbia)
 
Does it help to run away from me?
Did you run away from the memories?
Wherever you go, I'm in your head
Even if you go to another country
Even if you go to another planet-
What we had we had together-
you will miss it always!
 
Always!
 
Chrorus!
You need someone rich,
(someone) to buy you the whole world
Breakfast in Dubai, Dinner in Paris
you to shine on magazine covers.
You need someone rich
(Someone) to buy you the whole world
And then take it all away (from you)
So that you see that with me you had everything
 
(America, Austraila, Arabia, Africa, Spain, Romania, The Philippines, Columbia)
 
Have you forgotten how we needed each other?
Have you forgotten how happy we were?
Have you forgotten that is was enough for you that you had me?
Even if you go to another country
Even if you go to another planet
What we had together-
You'll miss it always
 
Always!
 
Chrorus!
You need someone rich,
(someone) to buy you the whole world
Breakfast in Dubai, Dinner in Paris
you to shine on magazine covers.
You need someone rich
(Someone) to buy you the whole world
And then take it all away (from you)
So that you see that with me you had everything.
 
You will miss it always
Always!
 
Chrorus!
You need someone rich,
(someone) to buy you the whole world
Breakfast in Dubai, Dinner in Paris
you to shine on magazine covers.
You need someone rich
(Someone) to buy you the whole world
And then take it all away (from you)
So that you see that with me you had everything.