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Andrei Voznesensky - Гойя (Goyya) dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre

Nyelv: 
English
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Goya

I'm Goya!
The enemy pecked up the eyes of shell-holes, flying away to the bare battlefield.
I'm a woe.
 
I'm a voice
of war, smuts of the cities on the snow of the year forty-first.
I'm a famine.
 
I'm a throat
of hanged woman, whose body ringed as a bell over a deserted square.
I'm Goya!
 
Oh, clusters
of Vengeance! I whirled up an ash of intruder with volley to West!
And drove in strong stars in the memorial sky
like the nails.
 
I'm Goya
 
Andrei Voznesensky - Гойя (Goyya) az Amazon oldalán
Andrei Voznesensky - Гойя (Goyya) megtekintése a YouTube-on
Andrei Voznesensky - Гойя (Goyya) meghallgatása a Soundcloud oldalán

Az előadó további dalszöveg fordításait megtalálhatod a következő linken: Andrei Voznesensky


A jobb oldalsávon található népszerű ikonok segítségével megnézheted, meghallgathatod vagy akár online meg is vásárolhatod a Гойя (Goyya) dalszöveg fordításhoz tartozó zeneszámot.


Az oldalon található "Гойя (Goyya)" angol nyelvű zeneszöveg magyar fordítás másként dalszöveg fordítás vagy lyrics fordítás csak személyes és oktatási célokra használható fel.
Andrei Voznesensky dalszövegeinek tulajdon és szerzői joga a szerzőket vagy a szám tulajdonosait illeti.



További dalszöveg fordítások

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Rising of Primorska

We used to painfully hold within
Our humiliation, our suffering
The cry of revenge we stifled on our lips
We buried it deep inside our hearts
 
But, look, a powerful tempest broke out
Like cobwebs the shackles were torn
The glow of the new day raced again
There to the last of Primorska homes
 
Machine guns sang their song
The air shook with the thunder of cannons
Wide meadows went up in flames
The call of freedom arose in the woods
 
Primorska, you have arisen into new life
With a raised head, stride into new times!
Through the battles, humiliation, victory, suffering
You finally found your real face
 
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(equirhythmic, rhyming)

Our Polly's Kinda Crying

Our Polly's kinda crying,
She must've dropped a ball while playing.
Foolish girl: she could have figured,
Ball would not sink in the river!
 
© St.Sol @ LT: all rights reserved.
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Traveling

Traveling
Down your pores
Is not the air what makes me talk
Is your smile
Traveling
Is not the air what makes me talk
Is your smile
 
And I'll wander
Sowing in the shore
And in the come back
My sharp tongue
Will be able to prune the false
 
Traveling
Down your blood
Is not the soft what makes me tremble
Is your smile
Traveling
Is not the soft what makes me tremble
Is your smile
 
And I'll wander
Sowing in the shore
And in the come back
My sharp tongue
Will be able to prune the false
All the false
 
Creative Commons License
My translations are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. It doesn't apply to the translations with a source.

Small announcement

'I'm seeking a sun girl to warm up my suburbs
A Provence girl for my escalators
I'm seeking a helping hand in the sleeping crowd
Write!
I'm seeking a flower girl near Saint-Germain
A boat girl to go out with on the Seine
If you want the sea at the bottom of the RER1
Write!'
 
[Refrain:]
I left the sun at the other part of day
I have no more than the night to find my love
I left the sun at the other part of day
I have no more than the night to fall in love
 
'I'm seeking a friend perhaps at the end of my country
With eyes like the sky and hair like leaves
But the sky is leaden and the summer is somewhere else
Write!
Write words to me that are impossible to say
Words of running water and words of forest
I'm seeking a flower girl in the town that cries
Write!'
 
[Refrain]
 
'I'm seeking a hawthorn girl in the maze of planets
In the years of prayer, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
I'm seeking a love of light and I have a headache
Write!'
 
[Refrain]
 
  • 1. Presumably the Réseau Express Régional, a Parisian public transit system
If you share my translations elsewhere, please link to this page/my profile and give me credit for my work. Corrections are always welcome.

Evander