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Roberto Goyeneche - Sur dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre

Nyelv: 

South

Old, San Juan and Boedo, and all the sky,
Pompeya and, beyond, the flood,
Your bridal vail in the memory,
And your name floating in the farewell...
 
The corner of the blacksmith mud and naked,
Your house, your path and the ditch
And a perfume of weeds and alfalfa
That fills my heart a new.
 
South, wall and then ...
South, a store light ...
You will never see me as you did,
Leaning on the counter
Waiting for you,
I will never light up with the stars
Our march without complaints
In the nights of Pompeya.
The streets and the suburban moons
And my love in your window
Everything is dead, I know it.
 
Old, San Juan and Boedo, lost sky,
Pompeya and, upon reaching the embankment,
Your twenty years trembling with love
Under the kiss that I then stole from you.
 
Nostalgia for the things that have passed,
Sand taken away by life,
Grief of the neighborhood that has changed
And bitterness of the dream that died.
 
South, wall and then ...
South, a store light ...
You will never see me as you did,
Leaning on the counter
Waiting for you,
I will never light up with the stars
Our march without complaints
In the nights of Pompeya
The streets and the suburban moons
And my love in your window
Everything is dead, I know.
 
Roberto Goyeneche - Sur az Amazon oldalán
Roberto Goyeneche - Sur megtekintése a YouTube-on
Roberto Goyeneche - Sur meghallgatása a Soundcloud oldalán

Az előadó további dalszöveg fordításait megtalálhatod a következő linken: Roberto Goyeneche


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


Az oldalon található "Sur" angol nyelvű zeneszöveg magyar fordítás másként dalszöveg fordítás vagy lyrics fordítás csak személyes és oktatási célokra használható fel.
Roberto Goyeneche dalszövegeinek tulajdon és szerzői joga a szerzőket vagy a szám tulajdonosait illeti.



További dalszöveg fordítások

Majbooriyan - Helplessness

You left me without any reason
After trusting someone else
Seven years ago
In seven days
Why you crushed everything to sand
Why you crushed everything
 
God will never forgive nu
you will regret
You will cry , i will not be there
then you will cry
You betrayed
 
You are dead for me
You are dead
 
You are dead
You are dead
 
heart full of love , but pain
Turns it into a stone
breath stops
when i miss you
 
sometimes Time
revolves such that
dreams turns to ashes
Love burns them
 
I am also destroyed
helplessness , helplessness
helplessness , helplessness
helplessness , helplessness
 
more than my life , i did it for you
where i lacked behind tell me
tell me where i lacked
I drank poison
just hugging the death was left
hugging the death was left
 
those who stayed on eyelashes
Burnt my eyelashes
I had faith in you
You were my mecca
why you betrayed
you betrayed me
 
you are dead
dead for me
 
love turned into smoke
turned lally ( a person ) Into ashes
just do a last thing for me
put me earthen pot and take me with you
 
(poetic)

The Bison Hunt

The bison hunt ends.
The wind that is missing ends, my son.
It is time for me to recall long fables that are good for your children—
in the evening, around the fire, together again—
and from the hill that guards the south because, from there,
the smoke of the city could rise.
 
As far as you can see, you can hunt—
but not a day's journey further.
Respect the white man when you meet him on the same road—
but don't fear him and never trust him.
Teach your people the paths of courage, along with piety.
Do not stop until your heart cannot go on.
 
And, with us, the evening hour is sweet—
and the wise man never flees from it.
I see new hunting, new pastures, and new wars for freedom.
Eternity does not end with me—
but rather on the smile of the warrior when he leaves what he loved here,
knowing that it is right that this is how it ended.
 
The bison hunt ends.
The breath that is missing ends, my son.
It is time for me to recall long fables that are good for your children—
in the evening, around the fire, together again—
and from the hill that guards the south because, from there,
the smoke of the city could rise.
 
Align paragraphs

Low flight

Take a strong motorcycle
Take your girl with you if you wish
And all those things that piss you off, forget them
Those who did, weren't fools
 
It's nice to speed in the fields
And to pass by hills in the evenings
To view strange cities at night
And to never stop anywhere
 
All those I'm about to tell you, remember them
Talking to you, is someone who's known a lot
And when it titls in corners, don't be scared
Your girl holds on tight
 
It's nice to speed in empty roads
And to see mountains all around you
Away from and laws
And to never stop anywhere
 
To see forgotten gas stations
And everything behind you to seem like it's so far away
Trucks out of breath to struggle
And to never stop anywhere
 
Align paragraphs

If you're a dick

They were just now born, gazing at the world with their tiny noses,
and they're already about to say that all the old people are dicks.
When they become old steak-chewers full of gripes,
they say that youngsters are all such dicks.
 
Since I am in the middle ground,
I'll tell them with this song:
time is not that important,
if you're a dick you're a dick.
Years make no difference,
if you're a dick you're a dick.
Cut it out with this quarrel,
you pricks from the past and the present,
old dicks from wartime,
and dicks who're still lads,
you little prats from the new era,
and all you grumbling old farts.
 
There's young dicks, younger dicks and not so young,
who go and tell their dad or their grandpa 'you're dicks'.
There's senile dicks sitting on benches with sticks,
always complaining that all the young people are dicks.
 
Since I am in the middle ground,
I'll tell them with this song:
time is not that important,
if you're a dick you're a dick.
Years make no difference,
if you're a dick you're a dick.
Cut it out with this quarrel,
you pricks from the past and the present,
old dicks from wartime,
and dicks who're still lads,
you little prats from the new era,
and all you grumbling old farts.