A keresés eredménye

Personal Favorite

A song of love, much like Stas Mikhailov
So I'll write, and the ladies will go 'Ah!'
Gold, diamonds, fur,
I'll make sure that is what my songs are about,
 
I'll water my chorus down,
So I can sing it to my mother-in-law :
 
You're mine, you're my favorite.
You're mine, you're my favorite.
You're mine, you're my favorite.
You're mine, you're my favorite.
 
I'm rich in spirit too,
I'll give 'em the Heavens, I'll give 'em the dawn,
The stars, and the sunsets,
And in the song, I'll give you a Bentley
 
I'll water my chorus down,
So I can sing it to my mother-in-law :
 
You're mine, you're my favorite.
You're mine, you're my favorite.
You're mine, you're my favorite.
You're mine, you're my favorite.
 
I'll find a new approach for everything I do,
It'll come from the heart and the head.
My song will stick, but it will fail,
But it'll be stronger than pills and drugs. 1
 
I'll water my chorus down,
So I can sing it to my mother-in-law :
 
You're mine, you're my favorite.
You're mine, you're my favorite.
You're mine, you're my favorite.
You're mine, you're my favorite.
 

• 1. It says herbs but given Leningrad's past, I'd assume it's drugs.

People do not fly

One of my buddies flew from the roof
When he landed, did not get up
And boots were carrying along the streets for a while
His mixed with blood brains
 
People, people, people do not fly (x4)
 
People do not fly, do not fly like birds
Because they grew big asses
Because of inclement weather
Because crawling is more popular nowadays
 
People, people, people do not fly (x4)
 
Yes, sometimes I am like an angel
And then I start flying, oh, oh, oh
I get wasted with vodka and I put face into the puddle,
With scream: fuck your mother
 
People, people, people do not fly (x4)
 

Gonna go to Leningrad

- Gonna go to Leningrad!
- I’m so glad! - I’m so glad!
There those two were softly saying,
Braking up and were assailing.
- You're like that! - You're like that!
- You're bad! - You're bad!
Gonna go to Leningrad!
- I’m so glad! - I’m so glad!
 
It all happened at the station,
At the midst of summertime.
Made all decisions, affirmations
And the tickets bought meantime.
Up to waist in smoke is covered
Engine, set to go about,
Express train of light blue colour
Almost ready to pull out.
Gonna go to Leningrad!
- I’m so glad! - I’m so glad!
 
But when in a peaky cap a fellow
Held his little flag upright,
Engine blew out steam in billows,
Semaphore been set alight,
When exactly at twelve-twenty
One bell rang, another rang -
It is now time for departing,
It is now time for departing:
- My endearing! - My beloved!
- I’m like that! - I’m like that!
- I'm bad! - I'm bad!
- I won’t go to Leningrad!
- I’m so glad! - I’m so glad!
 

Song of the destroyers on Leningrad front

We were created by Stalin,
Menacing destroyers, —
The country sends us to avenge our Motherlland.
He will not save himself inside armour,
The enemy will pay back thrice
His bill to my Motherland.
 
Chorus:
The destroyer wages battle —
The hordes of wolves are howling.
I have opened a deadly account
For the fascist rascals.
Beat! Beat!
Beat the fascists in the dug-outs,
Bury them in debris,
Beat them! Beat them!
With fierce revenge in the spirit,
Following Stalin's orders.
 
Stalin led the innumerable force
Out to victorious battle,
The enemy will not find any way back.
I'll well-aimedly send a bullet,
Avenge for my father
And for the tears and blood of children.
 
Chorus.
 
Burning with wrath towards the German,
Nikolaev beats the enemies,
Goličenkov moves them down by the hundreds.
The country will not forget
The names of the brave,
It'll retain them with love forever.
 
Chorus.
 
Growing is our army of the brave,
Like Smoljačkov the hero,
Like Pahomov, Rusinov.
We'll beat them until the end,
To exterminate the enemies,
To fullfill Stalin's order with honour.
 
Chorus.
 

Goodbye Everyone

Where the poet Orlusha stopped
I’ll go ahead and turn on your ears. 1
 
[Couplet 1]
Those fucked up pedestrians and bus drivers,
I hate those fucking freaks every day, all the time,
and those fucked up cops and road workers,
my Fridays are fuckin’ fucked, and especially Saturday.
 
[Chorus]
Above is the blue sky
Under the sky's the clouds
There is nothing fucking great here
It's fucking pissing me off, goodbye everyone... 2*
 
[Couplet 2]
Summer is a fucking bitch, especially fuck autumn
Even fuck Alla, everyone has worn her**
Fuck these faces in the television
That joke, that dance, that frolic in the arena
 
[Chorus]
Above is the blue sky
Under the sky's the clouds
There is nothing fucking great here
It's fucking pissing me off, goodbye everyone...
 
[Couplet 3]
Fuck the fucking wind and rain, the sun was fucking cold too
Fuck Putin, fuck Medvedev and Obama's fucking mug, ***
Meat, fish, vodka, women and fishing and hunting
Fuck the week, fuck relaxing on Saturday
 
[Chorus]
Above is the blue sky
Under the sky's the clouds
There is nothing fucking great here
It's fucking pissing me off, goodbye everyone...
 
[Couplet 4]
Above is the blue sky
Under the sky's the clouds
There is nothing fucking great here
You’re all fucked, goodbye everyone…
 
If you’ve sworn someone in vain,
The calendar will mark that day.
We rush off for new adventures, friends
So go on ahead conductor.****
 

• 1. He sets up two things, the profanity to come, and his opening words before the song. This is a good way to start a song. If you know who Orlusha is, and his works
• 2. It is hard for me to figure out how to go with this….and honestly by this point I was tired of rifling through trying to remove the asterisks from the Russian lyrics and was like, eh, just going to interpret the fucks however I wish. Honestly, I don’t think there is a right way to interpret what he is saying, correct me if I’m wrong

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.

Tits (Breasts)

Versions: #3
The world will be transformed at once, there will be more beauty all around,
And like a rhinestones the smiles will sparkle and drawbridges will come down,
Our river banks will join together, you'll become more closer and dear,
When I'll implant for myself new tits, the ice will melt and snow disappear.
 
Chorus:
When for myself, when for myself, when I'll implant for myself new tits,
When for myself, when for myself, when I'll implant for myself new tits,
Tits... (x 6)
Tits...(x 6)
 
And birds will sing in winter, the problems will be solved with *PHD,
And the sad one will have some fun,
The diamonds, gold, fur will fall in price at once,
And vodka will turn into whiskey in a split,
And there will be light and happiness, when I implant for myself new tits.
 
Chorus:
When for myself, when for myself, when I'll implant for myself new tits,
When for myself, when for myself, when I'll implant for myself new tits,
Tits... (x 6)
Tits... (x 6)
Tits...(x 6)
 
The neighbours will stop drilling, their friendly faces will start to glow,
In pubs from taps almost for free, fresh stout will start to flow,
And sanctions will be revoked on the spot, Magnitsky act and names on the lists,
It will be warm, the frost will disappear, when for myself I'll implant new tits.
 
Chorus:
When for myself, when for myself, when I'll implant for myself new tits,
When for myself, when for myself, when I'll implant for myself new tits,
 

Monkey and Eagle

Well, what kind of grievances could there be?
We just don't follow the same path
We are completely different types
You can't twist it into anything else
 
Before, we lived together full and drunk
Until he got the knowledge
In the horoscopes he found out that I am a monkey
I am a monkey, and he - an eagle!
I am a monkey, and he - an eagle!
 
She is a monkey by the zodiac signs
And even without the signs, she's a monkey
She is a monkey by the zodiac signs
And even without the signs, she's a monkey
 
Ooo, a-a, ooo
Ooo, a-a, ooo
Ooo, a-a, ooo
Ooo, a-a, ooo
 
Why the fuck do you cook me bananas?
A monkey's fucking food
I'm full to my neck with these fucking bananas
Go home to your Karaganda
 
Before we lived together full and drunk
Until he got the knowledge
In the horoscopes he found out that I am a monkey
I am a monkey, and he - an eagle!
I am a monkey, and he - an eagle!
 
She is a monkey by the zodiac signs
And even without the signs, she's a monkey
She is a monkey by the zodiac signs
And even without the signs, she's a monkey
 
Ooo, a-a, ooo
Ooo, a-a, ooo
Ooo, a-a, ooo
Ooo, a-a, ooo
 
For us eagles, everything is to the lamp and higher
Monkeys don't сare about what happens to us
With a monkey you won't cook porridge
A monkey isn't a friend to an eagle
 
No, they didn't live full and drunk
I got this knowledge long ago
That someone with the sign monkey
Will never love an eagle
Will never love an eagle
 
She is a monkey by the zodiac signs
And even without the signs, she's a monkey
She is a monkey by the zodiac signs
And even without the signs, she's a monkey
 
Ooo, a-a, ooo
Ooo, a-a, ooo
Ooo, a-a, ooo
Ooo, a-a, ooo
 

Ju-Ju

[Verse 1, Gluk'oZa]:
Olya is dissatisfied with her Mercedes
Kolya is dissatisfied being overweight
He is dissatisfied with his Mazda, too
He'd be satisfied if he had Olya's Mercedes
 
[Chorus]
Lemme tell you the thing, lemme tell you the thing
Here I am driving a Peugeot, talking no shit
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju! Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Driving a Peugeot, talking no shit
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju! Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
 
[Verse 2, Gluk'oZa]:
Tolya is often dissatisfied with Olya
And dissatisfied with his salary, too
They are spinning like hamsters in a wheel
In our office, and everyone is dissatisfied
 
[Chorus]
Lemme tell you the thing, lemme tell you the thing
Here I am driving a Peugeot, talking no shit
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju! Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Driving a Peugeot, talking no shit
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju! Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
 
[Verse 3, ST]:
And I'm in the traffic jam, rolling down
Tinted windows by pressing a button
And what do I see? There's a Peugeot on the left
I'm driving closer to it so that I could line up
In her eyes, I see a question 'The fuck?!'
It seems I'm the first guy in her life who has an S-class car
I will show people the development of this story
But I will tell no one I'm just an S-class driver
 
[Chorus]
Lemme tell you the thing, lemme tell you the thing
Here I am driving a Peugeot, talking no shit
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju! Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Driving a Peugeot, talking no shit
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju! Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
 
[Verse 4, Gluk'oZa]:
Olya's husband is dissatisfied, too
He's the boss of Tolya, Olya and Kolya
Olya wants a BMW instead of a Mercedes
Just because she has fucking nothing better to think about!
 
[Chorus]
Lemme tell you the thing, lemme tell you the thing
Here I am driving a Peugeot, talking no shit
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju! Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Driving a Peugeot, talking no shit
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju! Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju! Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Driving a Peugeot, talking no shit
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju! Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju!
 
In case you'd like to share my translation by reposting it somewhere, credit me, please. It would be great if you also left a link to the source. Thank you.

No Paris

[Verse 1]
I would’ve been over housework, Galya,
Flapping my wings selflessly
In this miserable and forgotten half-city
You can barely find a gentleman
 
[Pre-chorus]
Oh, god, forgive me, but, in our region,
I won’t grow as a person
 
[Chorus]
You’re quite right, Marisha
Our ass-place is no Paris
Whether you’re flapping your wings or not
There’s no freaking way you’ll fly up the ass-place
But I’ll put it the women way, we’re no youngsters, after all
You won’t find a more fucking great husband anywhere except in Izhevsk
No matter what you say, our men
Are fucking greater than the ones in Paris, fucking greater than in Paris
 
[Verse 2]
There’s not enough adrenaline for us, Galya
The prince isn’t flying or going by car to us
Pour me a half, Galina
We’re ladies, Galya, we’re, Galya, ladies
 
[Pre-chorus]
Oh, god, forgive me, but, in our region,
I won’t grow as a person
 
[Chorus]
You’re quite right, Marisha
Our ass-place is no Paris
Whether you’re flapping your wings or not
There’s no freaking way you’ll fly up the ass-place
But I’ll put it the women way, we’re no youngsters, after all
You won’t find a more fucking great husband anywhere except in Izhevsk
No matter what you say, our men
Are fucking greater than the ones in Paris, fucking greater than in Paris
 
[Bridge]
Come on, let’s do that Russian style,
Why the fuck you’re so sad, gals?
We’ve got men and a bottle of vodka
We’re patriot gals, after all!
 
Come on, let’s do that Russian style,
Why the fuck you’re so sad, gals?
We’ve got men and a bottle of vodka
We’re patriot gals, after all!
 
[Verse 3]
I’m thinking of the last summer
You remember how we visited Janna for vodka?
I wish we’ve been driving in a cabriolet
‘cuz, Galina, we’re Parisian girls in our souls
 
[Pre-chorus]
Oh, god, forgive me, but, in our region,
I won’t grow as a person
 
[Chorus]
You’re quite right, Marisha
Our ass-place is no Paris
Whether you’re flapping your wings or not
There’s no freaking way you’ll fly up the ass-place
But I’ll put it the women way, we’re no youngsters, after all
You won’t find a more fucking great husband anywhere except in Izhevsk
No matter what you say, our men
Are fucking greater than the ones in Paris, fucking greater than in Paris
Fucking greater than the ones in Paris, fucking greater than in Paris
 
In case you'd like to share my translation by reposting it somewhere, credit me, please. It would be great if you also left a link to the source. Thank you.

Blues

The meteorological center reported at lunch:
“There won't be good weather, good weather is no more.” 1
I called “09”,2they reported me what’s the time,
I don’t believe them, not the fuck, not the fuck.
 
And in the news again, all lie,
just like little children.
I need the newspaper only,
when I’m in the toilet.
 

• 1. A play on words. I tried to keep the it Russian way. Normally it should be translated as “Weather will be bad, weather is bad.”
• 2. Telephone number of information center of Moscow City Telephone Network.

Copyright®: Andrzej Pałka.

All translations are protected by copyright law. Copying and publishing on other websites or in other media, even with the source link, is not allowed without a written permission of the author.

Wszystkie tłumaczenia są chronione prawami autorskimi. Kopiowanie i publikowanie na innych stronach internetowych lub w innych mediach, jest dozwolone wyłącznie po uzyskaniu pisemnej zgody autora. Podanie źródła tłumaczenia nie zastępuje zgody autora.

Freedom

Versions: #3
It’s only when you swim against the tide,
you understand the price of freedom of speech.
The chain links merge into long pieces,
and the lifeline becomes just a point.
 
Words and days, stitch after stitch,
sew your life with soul and sparks.
Here, behind the bars, the colonel’s the boss,
and all my freedom is a radio receiver.
 
I am free like a bird in the sky.
I am free, I forgot what fear is.
 
To be different means to be always alone.
Choose what you prefer, homelessness or prison.
Nobody gets freedom just for free,
you can't simply leave or enter it.
 
Soda to make the tea more black.
Got it? Then pour yourself a cup.
I'm taking part in some sitting marathon.
At least I have a radio-cassette player.
 
I am free like a bird in the sky.
I am free, I forgot what fear is.
 
Tea, fags, answers to questions,
interrogations, still more and more.
My radio is a one-way communication,
dots and dashes, jail argot.
 
I cannot say anything, but I hear everything,
I saw a rat transforming into a mouse.
What cannot be erased, no matter what you do,
is freedom and that's what's deep inside of me.
 
I am free like a bird in the sky.
I am free, I forgot what fear is.
 
Freedom is that what’s deep inside me.
 
Copyright®: Andrzej Pałka.

All translations are protected by copyright law. Copying and publishing on other websites or in other media, even with the source link, is not allowed without a written permission of the author.

Wszystkie tłumaczenia są chronione prawami autorskimi. Kopiowanie i publikowanie na innych stronach internetowych lub w innych mediach, jest dozwolone wyłącznie po uzyskaniu pisemnej zgody autora. Podanie źródła tłumaczenia nie zastępuje zgody autora.

Hands out of your Pockets

- Hands out of your pockets,
Where is your document?
He said to me at/on Moskovskiy*,
the cop that was walking by.
And I was with my accordion
- Oh here it is, ME!
- And what's this?
- Oh this is my music!
 
Blah blah blah (a story about Moscow)
 
-- Hands out of your pockets,
Where is your document?
He said to me at/on Leningradskiy*
the cop that was walking by.
And I was with my accordion
- Oh here it is, ME!
- And what's this?
- Oh this is my music!
 
This is my music!!
 
There you go!!
 
This is my music!!
 

Good Morning, Kids!

Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning, kids!
 
Mornings are so cool!
I want joy, let's dance.
All destinations are open to us.
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning, kids!
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning, kids!
 
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning, kids!
 
I've made my bed,
and all the toys are waiting for fun,
and I want to draw with my pencils.
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning, kids!
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning, kids!
 
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning, kids!
 
The sun is shining through the clouds,
Let's have fun with all our hearts.
Every day is the best!
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning, kids!
Good morning!
Good morning!
Good morning, kids!
 

Cottage People

I slowly die at work,
Then I get drunk, then (I'm) in (a pool of) vomit,
I come home, and you're there,
Scrambled eggs, TV, geranium flowers.
 
Chorus:
When summer comes
We'll go to our Dacha (cottage)
With shovels in our hands
we'll dig our asses off
Da-cha!!! (Yeah, huh!!!)
 
gotta plant the potatoes
 
I slowly die at work,
Then I get drunk, then (I'm) in (a pool of) vomit,
And in this life there isn't shit
(none of) that, what's it again... oh! Happiness!
 
Chorus.
 
The potatoes, the potatoes...
And don't forget to water the tomatoes!!!
 

 

Alchoholic

I love beer, I love vodka,
I like chicks and fatty herring,
I don't like your baked rolls,
I'm an alcoholic, a fucking moron!
 
Alcoholic and a moron!
Alcoholic and a moron!
Alcoholic and a moron!
Alcoholic and a moron!
 
I like neither milk nor honey,
I don't like when the receiver screeches like that,
I don't love you, (or like) your French rolls,
I'm an alcoholic, a fucking moron!
 
Alcoholic and a moron!
 

Kiev - Leningrad

Kiev - Leningrad1 - the glow of the runways.
Kiev - Leningrad - less than a day's time.
Kiev - Leningrad - so as not to forget your voice.
Kiev - Leningrad - if you are waiting for me.
 
The wax melted down, the candles went out, the house is dark,
I want to cry and it's not an accident if it's raining on the window.
Sad moments often happen in our destiny,
But if one day you say 'I miss (you)' - I'll fly to you.
 
Kiev - Leningrad - the glow of the runways.
Kiev - Leningrad - less than a day's time.
Kiev - Leningrad - so as not to forget your voice.
Kiev - Leningrad - if you are waiting for me.
 
The northern city keeps your soul,
And as years are flying away in the fog after the ship2.
As I do not try hard to slow down the course of the time,
But if you want, if you want, I'll fly to you.
 
Kiev - Leningrad - the glow of the runways.
Kiev - Leningrad - less than a day's time.
Kiev - Leningrad - so as not to forget your voice.
Kiev - Leningrad - if you are waiting for me.
 

• 1. This song is about a love that occuerd before the city changed its name in 1991.
• 2. The мчатся verb means to run like a chicken, but in English, time flies. The корабль word is a ship, a boat or an aircraft. It might also refers to a famous sad song Летят журавли (The Cranes Are Flying) by Mark Bernes, where the word туман (fog) is also used.

This Devil's Not On My Level

Yesterday, I met this girl after a drink or two,
Nothing much to look at, and a piss-taker too.
We knocked back about ten shots but, after this,
I begin to dance the twist, and she dances like shit.
 
I reckon that this devil is just not on my level.(1)
I reckon that this devil is just not on my level.
 
Last weekend, a similar thing happened to me too:
Got to know this girl somewhere - forgot her name, mind you.
All in all, we drank around six bottles of 'Moet' full,
But she couldn't hold her drink, and puked under the table.
 
I reckon that this devil is just not on my level.
I reckon that this devil is just not on my level.
 
You can't argue with karma, bitch, how can you not scream,
Where science is meaningless, the doctors sit silently,
The kind of babe, at my level - where is she hiding?
In the future, I'll weakly settle, I'm better off wanking.
 
I reckon that this devil is just not on my level.
I reckon that this devil is just not on my level.
 

Leningrád

Viktor '44 tavaszán született
És apját sosem látta már
Az áldozat gyermeke, a háború gyermeke
Még egy fiú, akinek sosem volt apja Leningrád után
 
Iskolába ment, és megtanulta szolgálni az államot
Követte a szabályokat, és rendesen itta a vodkáját
Élni csak a gyűlöletet megfullasztva lehetett
Az orosz élet szomorú volt
És ilyen volt az élet Leningrádban is
 
Én '49-ben születtem
Hidegháborús gyermek McCarthy idejében
Állítsd meg őket a 38. szélességnél
Lődd át a pokolba azokat a sárga vöröseket
És a hidegháborús gyerekeket nehéz volt megölni
Asztalaik alatt egy légi próbariadón
Nem hallották, hogy megnyertük a háborút -
Miért küzdenek tovább?
 
Viktort a Vörös Hadsereg valami városába küldték
Leszolgálta az idejét, cirkuszi bohóc lett
A legnagyobb öröm, amelyet valaha talált
Az volt, hogy orosz gyerekeket boldoggá tegyen
És Leningrádban gyerekek éltek
 
De Levittownban gyerekek éltek
És a földalatti óvóhelyeken bújtak meg
Míg a szovjetek visszafordították a hajóikat
És lerombolták a kubaiak rakétáit
És abban a ragyogó októberi napfényben
Tudtuk, hogy a gyerekkorunk napjai véget értek
Láttam a barátaimat háborúba menni
Miért küzdenek tovább?
 
Így hát a gyermekem és én eljöttünk ide
Hogy találkozzunk vele szemtől szembe, arc az arcra
Megnevettette a lányomat, majd megöleltük egymást
Nem tudtuk, miféle barátaink voltak
Míg el nem jöttünk Leningrádba
 

Elections! Elections!

Versions: #2
I sit there and don't drink since morning,
Tomorrow the election will take place,
I must be as sober as possible,
To tick off that checkbox.
 
Yeah, the voting will begin!
 
A buddy brought a gram [of drugs] in his pocket,
But I prepare for the election,
I won't fucking snort anything,
So the voting won't be disrupted.
 
Yeah, my sense of justice increases!
 
And now this great day arrived,
And they handed me the ballot sheet,
I go and tick off the checkbox - yeah,
I vote against everybody.
 
Yeah, I don't help assholes!
Yeah, I won't vote for you!
 
Yeah, the voting proceeds!
 
Elections, elections, the candidates - are faggots!!!
 

Wild man

Versions: #3
You are calling me a shithead
Yeah, I'm pissed again and again
And your ass in front of everyone I grab
With my dirty, hairy hand.
 
Yeah, like smelly sticks my feet
On which are my socks, full of holes and overused
And this two heaps of dust and shit-
These are my shoes.
 
Yeah, you're right, I'm a wild man,
You're right, I'm a wild man,
You're right, I'm a wild man,
Tobacco, stubble, balls, stench of alcohol - I'am
 
Yeah, you're right, I'm a wild man,
You're right, I'm a wild man,
You're right, I'm a wild man,
Tobacco, stubble, balls, stench of alcohol - I'am
 

Leningrad

It's already evening on the Seven Hills, and my hands got cold.
What else won't encounter, who else won't wait?
The numbers in black on the ticket and the sound of the train station.
These images I will keep in my mind, taking one step forward.
 
Night.
My voice is flowing through the wires,
Dividing the path in two, and I go after it
A little slower by 'Red Arrow' 1
 
Mother, I'm coming back home!
Mother, you were right.
This city is foreign to me.
Mother, I'm coming back to Leningrad.
 
The coldness is almost unbearable, the time is frozen.
I run away from the Seven Hills, to save myself.
Dividing into 'Before' and 'After', I will believe again.
I'm risking, I start everything again, looking for love.
 
Night.
My voice is flowing through the wires,
Dividing the path in two, and I go after it
A little slower by 'Red Arrow' 1
 
Mother, I'm coming back home!
Mother, you were right.
This city is foreign to me.
Mother, I'm coming back to Leningrad.
 
I'm coming back to Leningrad.
I'm coming back to Leningrad.
I'm coming back to Leningrad.
I'm coming back to ...
 

• Кра́сная стрела́ - a train connection Moscow and Saint Petersburg

Letters

Apple-trees stood in bloom,
Spring is come,
To serve in the army,
Time has come,
You said you would wait,
But you lied,
You didn't save our love,
Didn't save our love.
 
Wrote you letters every day,
Was drawing heart on the envelope,
But you didn't answer me a line,
Love me or not, love me or not.
Wote you letters every day,
Was drawing heart on the envelope,
But you didn't answer me a line,
Love me or not, love me or not.
 
It's not easy to serve in the army,
If no one waits,
Maybe, with other girl
I'm lucky in life.
She'll write me letters,
Will love me,
But our first love, with you
I'll never forget.
 
After all... Wrote you letters every day,
Was drawing heart on the envelope,
But you didn't answer me a line,
Love me or not, love me or not.
Wote you letters every day,
Was drawing heart on the envelope,
But you didn't answer me a line,
Love me or not, love me or not.
 
La-la-la... Love me or not!
 
Tibor from QS-FB

Dick in a Coat

I crawled to the door,
I'll ring the bell too,
Throw up, stumble,
Soaked right through.
 
Behind the door you choke:
- Who the fuck is that?
- Your dick in a coat!
Is what I answer back.
 
Che-che-che-check it out, yo!
 
I'll crawl back home,
I'll crawl back home,
I'll ring the bell,
Soaked to hell!
 
Behind the door you choke:
- Who the fuck is that?
- Your dick in a coat!
Is what I answer back.
 

Evil Bullet

I run, run to freedom
And behind me, behind me chasing
And behind me soldiers run
Their guns aimed at my back
 
Evil bullet!
Give me freedom,
Straight to the heart
So there is no pain
Evil bullet!
Give me freedom,
Straight to the heart
So there is no pain
 
But the chase is closer, closer,
Snipers shoot from the roof
But I won't let them take me alive
I'd rather die young
 
Evil bullet!
Give me freedom,
Straight to the heart
So there is no pain
Evil bullet!
Give me freedom,
Straight to the heart
So there is no pain
 
I fress freedom with blood
The earth creaks on my teeth
Where is the bullet, where is the bullet
That was cast for me
 
Evil bullet!
Give me freedom,
Straight to the heart
So there is no pain
Evil bullet!
Give me freedom,
Straight to the heart
So there is no pain