A keresés eredménye

Demons in my Dreams

Versions: #1
A black hat, and the Witches' God Moloch,
A part of their nightly ritual.
And there to the left of the Hounds,
Is an unwelcomed friend.
And to your right is the home,
With a chiney so tall,
Where the fallen angels reside.
 
One with a stache, another with a beard,
And the third's shaven.
One plays, the other sings,
And someone else listens.
All while Orion burns bright,
Through a hole in the holy heavens.
 
Demons in my dreams,
Demons in my dreams...
 
Through the night your eyes fall shut,
Only to be embraced by Death,
Through the night you come face-to-face,
With the Princes of Darkness.
And he keeps watch,
Of what burns inside his furnaces,
As it turns to ash.
 
Demons in my dreams,
Demons in my dreams...
 

It's Time to Go

One man promised me,
He promised he'd save my soul, 1
One of them gave me a glass,
And said he'd go to get wine
But they never returned,
That's when I knew it was time to go!
 
I was prepared for it,
Prepared for her every whim.
She ate mushrooms,
I wanted to get high in the sky,
But I went down the drain
That's when I knew it was time to go!
 
Where the lights are always on,
Where they'll never find us!
 
There were so many tribes,
And all the peoples beneath this star,
Some swore by the heavens,
Others swore by Hell.
But when everyone would shut up,
That's when I knew it was time to go!
 
And so good two-thousand years had passed,
Since then, like the rooster's caw,
The world stayed the same,
The spitting image of a barn-yard.
If anyone calls and asks,
Tell 'em I'm a gone,
Because that was when I knew it was time to go!
 
Where the lights are always on,
Where they'll never find us!
 

• 1. For a band obsessed with death and has written a song about necrophilia, they're quite fervent.

Wallapaper

In my breastplate is a hole,
But beneath it is a good heart,
Transparent like glass.
I sand their songs, drank their wine,
I felt so good until then,
Until it became dark.
Oh, I lit the smokey grass,
Then doused my wallpaper in gasoline,
I took a deep breath,
That way the sun could rise inside.
 
From a local clinic in the pampas,
A fool ran off, climbing up a palm tree,
And he bit off his tail.
In the streets displays of true love,
Negroes blew up a maternity hospital with all our people in it,
Putting them on a stake.
 
Oh, this apartheid,
Such an enjoyable piece of shit,
Of course, God knows,
That the sun will rise over Africa once more!
 
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a mouth for a mouth.
You're getting sticky like honey, soon then,
[You'll] Flow like white filth. 1
We waltz on a slippery table,
We can see the cosmos through a hole in the ceiling,
We're free at last!
Oh open up wide my dear,
Let me put my gun in your mouth,
I'll pull the trigger,
Get ready dammit, the Sun is rising!
 

• 1. Yes I'm going to offend some folks by doing this but this is the most logical way to interpret this line.

My Village

A gun in a shady park,
Gatherin' around, kickin' the bucket,
Where Lobotryas wears earrings 1
Someone's getting hungover,
Someone's getting bored,
Someone's drowning moo-moo in a puddle.
We've got a hit-parade in our village today!
We've got one-hell-of-a parade in our village today! 2
 
I hate Anne Veski 3
'Modern talking' and 'arabesques'
I despise Leontiev and Kobzon. 4
I ain't a barbarian, nor a villain,
But grief drains us all.
From the TV and radio station.
We've got a hit-parade in our village today!
We've got one-hell-of-a parade in our village today!
 
Oh my village, my dear home...
Oh my village, my dearest home...
 
A gun in a shady park,
Where we gather to kick the bucket,
Where Lobotryas wears earrings
I sang with pride,
Songs I made myself,
And lightning-fast they were captured, taken away.
There is a watchful eye in our village!
There is a watchful eye in our village!
 
And here I am, riding a cow
On country roads
And an angry crowd chases after me.
Hippies, punks and anarchists,
Rockers and metal-heads,
And twirly, flexible breakdancers.
We've got a hit-parade in our village today!
We've got one-hell-of-a parade in our village today!
Oh my village, my dear home...
Oh my village, my dearest home...
 

• 1. Idk what this is?
• 2. Lynch me, I dare you to.
• 3. An Ethiopian pop singer.
• 4. More musicians.

Zombie

In his hands a banner, in his eyes a forest,
Everything around it is empty inside
Exactly like him.
He enjoys pouring water, he teaches everyone about life,
Calling to catch up for he does not know where he is going,
Smeared with tar.
 
A zombie plays the trumpet, and we dance to his dances.
But God knows, and soon dust will shake off from his feet,
Spitting at the sky, and leaving with your dreams.
 
He ate a rate alive, drinking a cobra's blood,
Burned a witch on a playground, harvested her ashes,
Sprinkling it on his body.
 
People shouted 'Hare', despite there still being swill. 1
And even after draining the ocean, when morning came they still couldn't,
[Coudln't] remember his name.
 
Zombie plays the trumpet...
 
Oh how many were there, one cooler than another,
And everyone knows the truth, everyone knows what was best,
That was the one that came before it.
The Great Temple toppled over, leaving stones,
Yet there is still time for fun and games
For glory of the ashes.
 

• 1. I know I got this line wrong.

Little girl with that gaze of a she-wolf

Versions: #2
Oh, my little girl with that gaze of a she-wolf…
I also committed a suicide just like you would,
I also have stayed inside blood-covered bath,
In silence inhaled the fumes of the hash.
 
You see how peaceful are cows on the pasture,
How radiant is the light that amber hills capture.
We'll pull out pillars, will remove borders for good.
Oh, my little girl with that gaze of a she-wolf…
 
Sweet dreams I wish for you, don’t dwell in the past.
House where you lived is abandoned and trashed.
The moss have covered tomb’s of yours roof,
My little girl with that gaze of a she-wolf…
 
© Uncommon
Critique is always welcomed (proof-read or not, negative too).

Adolf

In bright city of Kars, where janissaries are many,
Temporary resides, glistening in fez,
There is palace of stone, named after unholy -
Thunder rolls inside and lighting sparks,
And spirits of the dark hover over the cross.
 
In the amber room, in brocade and gold,
Amazing as peacock, on a throne Tristan lies
And observes the flight of wild wasps,
While behind his back Isolde digs pillbox,
And guillotine waits in a silver gloss.
 
And corpsmen in submarines
Waiting for the war to be over.
 
But now King Adolf storms the palace of stone,
Frightened Tristan pours water in sink,
And in the sink there is headless woman.
Not a big grief, when another's life is forever gone.
He says: “auf Wiedersehen”…
And turns off his white switch,
And descends to the bottom.
 
© Uncommon

Ambulance car

Her fingers garlanded with rings of Saturn
She smells worse than a spitting urn,
Her granddad is Marquis de Sade,
Her papa is Schicklgruber.
 
She is more dangerous than virus of AIDS
She is bloodier than bullfighter's blades
She calls me back to her,
To the gloomy Kingdom of Hades.
 
Ambulance car, ambulance car,
Ambulance car, and go far... go far... go fuck off!
 
Early autumn, pleasant night.
Arbat street. House number eight.
Here once resided Tanya,
(I can still remember this!)
 
Someone cuts his wrists in bathroom
Walls are shaking from love-making
We drink vodka on the kitchen,
Three, including Jimi Hendrix.
 
Ambulance car, ambulance car,
Ambulance car, and go far... go far... go fuck off!
 
Oh, my dull-eyed child,
You cherish syringe's glide.
But in vain, yes, in vain,
You are flying in the clouds.
 
Clouds give a poor support,
You will soon fall back to dirt,
And you will be taken without delay,
To the graveyard mounds.
 
Ambulance car, ambulance car,
Ambulance car, and go far... go far... go fuck off!
 
© Uncommon

There is no more death

In the house on the Bare mountain
Light, light, light,
During the plague a feast
For the witches resurrected from hell.
I'm dancing with them all night,
And choose only one towards sunrise-
The one, who has a silver cross
That's burning on her forehead.
 
And on it, is one dead male,
Dressed in the clown's frock tale,
While I became a fire
I've long forgotten, what is death.
I'm happy to know,
That he is the same as me.
And there is no more death for us!
There is no more death!
 
And in her eyes
Ice, ice, ice,
Last hundred years,
Last hundred winters.
And rain of tears every night,
And call from the other side,
And sweet smoke of cigarettes,
Until the bright light flares up again!
And careless children of the dawn
Running on the waves,
Will shout after her:' There is no more death!
There is no more death!
 
And in underground houses
Darkness, darkness, darkness.
Light up the candle,
Run after me.
One more dead male,
Dressed in the clown's frock tale,
While I became a fire
I've long forgotten, what is death.
I'm happy to know,
That he is the same as me.
And there is no more death for us!
There is no more death!
 

Outsider

You deserve brushstrokes of a Flemish master,
I don't deserve a white-washer's muddle,
You was born and lived under lucky star,
I'm outsider, scum and scar, stayed always afar,
In the clear water puddle,
Away from global ideas, foes and friends.
And you cry as a homeless - Hooray for the home!
And I cry as a madman - Hooray for the puddle!
But iron door has iron lock,
And you aren't allowed to look at the clock, or to listen hard rock.
From two systems of being, I guess, I'll choose one
Where you are missing.
 
You will live there, I will stay here.
You will be building a family shrine, and I will be drinking wine.
I will die from cirrhosis, you will open windows,
But you will hardly remember me, when the smoke will rise from the chimney!
 
I don't care if I'm alive or dead.
Have plans or drunk at o-five.
Your dad said that I am a pornocrat,
And I saw so much shit in my life,
I told him – Yeah! But gosh how stupid of you,
Since it was only a play, and I played my role.
 
You will live there, I will stay here.
You will be building a family shrine, and I will be drinking wine.
I will die from cirrhosis, you will open windows,
But you will hardly remember me, when the smoke will rise from the chimney!
 

Hare Rama

Versions: #2
All [the] dreams we embraced have been met with a laugh.
None of us wished to die, but for one1 who did that in all people's behalf.
When the source of depravity dried, she discovered foot steps of a beast,
That were leading from bedroom to john and [then] further to the east.
 
That's my pledge: I won't smoke anymore, I'll quit drinking like dove,
I'll stop talking about true love, [and then] I'll start to love,
I'll love all earthly creatures out there just as I love myself,
I shall sleep only with my faithful wife.
 
Hare Rama! Hare Rama! Hare Rama!
 
Do not throw stones at me and don't aim loaded gun at my head,
Do not scare me with daily despair, I'm already afraid of the dead.
Give a flower to me, when we finally part our ways,
Forgive me, please, if I did you wrong some days.
 
Hare Rama! Hare Rama! Hare Rama! Hare Krishna!
 

• 1. Jesus Christ

Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Jeff - The White Blood

I would build me a house,
I would grow to adulthood,
I would play to death
With the wind of gods
For my whole life time,
If not for Jeff...
If it were not for white blood...
 
Under the bright Southern Cross,
There, where the winters are warm,
I would be right now
A free rider pal
In your sweet night dreams
If not for Jeff...
If it were not for white blood...
 
Here, in this wet mud,
Here, right under this bleary moon,
There're no stars 'n the dark,
No repose in dreams,
Nor the love in soul,
But only Jeff,
Only crystal white blood!
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

The year 2001

As a child I played football,
Then I grew older and started to play rock'n'roll,
And now I realize that it was all in vain.
I open the door with the sign 'No entrance',
I light up a cigarette and go outside,
And look at the passers-by in the street through tobacco smoke.
I remember how I built a wonderful castle as a gift,
How I chased the roaming wind, played with fire and ash.
That's how, sword in hand, I will enter
The year 2001.
 
It's 2001, I'm running open-mouthed down the road,
And tanks are rolling right behind me.
I run into a dead end, there is a druggie,
He is sitting in a sling chair and smoking dope,
And I see my reflection in his eyes.
He invites me to the place where there is no grief or fire,
Where the raspberry mist of sleep soothes the eyes.
That's how, with a joint in my teeth, I will blindly enter
The year 2001.
 
Here's another scenario:
My thoughts are clear as a diamond,
And there are no cobwebs nor dirt in my soul.
I'm glad to be alive,
I'm happy about the sun and about the rain too,
I'm one of those who got lost in the crowd.
And I don't know where the river is taking my boat.
That's how I drift passively
Through time and space,
But how I would like to be alive when it comes,
The year 2001!
 

Tru-la-la

Will it be white angels' crowd or the devils' motley horde -
All the same who will be that bright light at the pipe's end.
May it be Lord Jesus Christ, or maybe weed from all the joints,
Or maybe one of those with whom I drank sometime ago...
 
But all this is smoke,
And all this is dust,
As long as deep inside
Lives my Tru-la-la!
 
Drunken jester's morning binge in the body of wrecked pig,
Morning ashes and glass shards, in blue sky: heavenly bells.
Who has taken me to stroll on the other side 'f the Moon?
What did I do there since birth? My Lord, where're you?!
 
But all this is smoke,
And all this is dust,
As long as deep inside
Lives my Tru-la-la!
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Passers By

Passers by, never glancing, and we, who follow in their steps,
In rush of years still looking in mirror glass,
We all wanted to live long, but I know that in no time
Holy ghost will lift us into the skies.
 
But we like it in here,
And we would like to stay forever here,
But it is time for us to fly, alas...
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

One Hundred Years Spent Living In Vain

Omega and Alpha're the end and beginning.
Immune hero's gnat, that's thrusting its stinger,
He just want to be
With her, to stay with her, stay forevermore!
 
Like shooting day star, he flashed for a moment,
Now he is leaving her visual field range.
And the Holy Gates are in front of him,
Heaven's beyond them,
And beyond it's the Earth
And hundred long years
[Spent] living in vain!
...Long years [spent] living in vain!
...Long years [spent] living in vain!
 
In chaos of cosmos,
Dispelled by the wind blow,
He's risen from ashes
To turn to ashes...
And the Holy Gates are behind him now,
Heaven's beyond them,
And beyond it's the Earth
And hundred long years
[Spent] living in vain!
...Long years [spent] living in vain!
...Long years [spent] living in vain!
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Demons In My Dreams

Moloch of witches, black top hat,
The nightly con games.
And straight to the left of the Hunting Dogs -
Unknown companion.
Well, to the right is the house
With chimney, so tall,
And angels who've fallen in it.
 
One's with a mustache, the other's with beard,
The third is balding.
One plays the brass horn, the other sings,
And someone hears.
Oh, Orion is shining upside down -
As [a] hole in holy heavens.
 
Demons in my dreams,
Demons in my dreams...
 
And every night, with his eyes shut,
Embraced by slow death,
And every night he faces Prince
Of Darkness
And keeps observing the rite
Of burning in the kilns,
And how they turn into dust:
 
Demons in my dreams,
Demons in my dreams...
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Lyubasha

One dark night I woke up
Because it suddenly felt stuffy
She was trying to suffocate me
With a starched pillow
My dear Lyubasha
My dear Lyubasha
 
I was gasping for air
But, alas, it was no use
She was choking me furiously
Tensing her muscles
My dear Lyubasha
My dear Lyubasha
 
Spies and special agents
Tabloids and yellow press
Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut
Instead of babbling to my friends
 
At dawn the sullen doctor
Wrote his report quickly
But I will never know
Why she killed me
My dear Lyubasha
My dear Lyubasha
 
Spies and special agents
Tabloids and yellow press
Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut
Instead of babbling to my friends
 
Spies and special agents
Tabloids and yellow press
Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut
Instead of babbling to my friends
 
My dear Lyubasha
My dear Lyubasha