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Akvarium - Афанасий Никитин Буги [Хождение За Три Моря 2] (Afanasiy Nikitin bugi [Khozhdenie za tri morya 2]) versuri traducere în engleză


English (poetic, rhyming, singable)
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Afanasi Nikitin Boogie or Journey Beyond the Three Seas 2

Versions: #1
We moved out from McDougal in midwinter cold spell
My girl is from Togliatti, I’m from Kostroma myself
We could wait until the summer - and pay the wicked price
But the cocaine we had was laced at 8 to 3 with dentifrice
So we bailed through the hatch with joints as our only light
She said she’s going to Mecca. I just said: “Goodbye”.
 
I don’t remember how it happened, which wind blew in my mouth
I followed steps of Kastaneda, ended up with mercantiles
On ships where sailors wear skirts and cabin boy’s jaws clutch a blade
Just as we stopped for embarkation in the Ulan-Bator bay
I rushed to nearest datsan - I’m joining the retreat
As I crossed paths with Lagerfeld… Hey, look, I am on Oxford Street!
 
I am with boatsman Paul, his sense of style is never wrong
He dons the Yamamoto jacket, wears pants Comme des Garcons.
Abruptly enters this woman from the art of Manet
Says, quickly come to my place, it’s 4 to 3 over there
We have no money for the cab, I had to sell my only coat
No one in Kostroma has seen such mess and they have seen a lot
 
It seemed like fun at first, ‘til the despondency set in
Just as the slime from those lizard backs was being licked off clean
The small apartment was jam-packed with pagan shrines up to the ceiling
I translated songs of Victor Tsoy from Urdu to Latin
And as I drank all they have had between the window panes at once
I caught the first subway to Thiruvananthapuram
 
And so we race across the desert, the wagons bleat and cry
As we are led across the faint stars by a bluesman-transvestite
Around happens god-knows-what, both on the left and on the right
The dances of steelmakers or, perhaps, female mud fights
As I had a meltdown twenty five times in a row
I threw my feet to Katmandu across Big Barrier Reef shoals
 
For seven weeks I haven’t shaven, lived off mushrooms for eight days
And now I bear a resemblance to the men of epic fate
Shamans and doctors can’t stop arguing how I am still alive
But I have learned to speak swahili, changed my cultural profile
When aliens come visit I will throw them to the pen
We, Russians, don’t need foreigners in these foreign lands
 


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01.02.2025

Doctor Faust





Oh, Doctor Faust
Behind you, do you see all these years you've spent wasting your life?
It's time for you to let yourself live life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Diving like this into dead languages, that's not life
If you spend time with them, living languages will revive you
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Science is a well where you drown yourself, if you want my opinion
Descend into the well of pleasure because that's life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Leave your Talmudic and astrologic studies behind
Instead, prepare a thesis on my anatomy
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Throw your books away, forget Latin, smile at live
In my arms, you'll get to know love and life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
 


01.02.2025

On board of the Aspasia





You traveled in pursuit of your destiny
To white but mournful Switzerland
Always in the deck in a chez-lung downstairs
by the familiar and saddest cause
 

Always restlessly your folks have been prowling around
But you, staring at the wings, were indifferent
You laughed bitterly at what they said because you felt
That you were travelling to the land of death
 

One night when we were passing through Stroboli
You said to some laughing man in a joking tone:
'How my sick body looks as it burns,
to the flaming top of the volcano!'
 

Then I saw you in Marcilia as you were lost
in the noise without turning back
And I who loved only the wet expanse,
I say I could love thee
 


01.02.2025

Gramophonomaniac





In room of miss Janka
winders and curtains tremble
Like in a fury there a gramophone plays
Because miss Janka is a gramophone maniac
From morning to morning constantly plays.
Syrena’s records are still brought by miss Janka,
She puts all of her money in it and continues to sing
 

And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
 

Neighbours of miss Janka, their wives and lovers declared, not being able to sleep at night:
We have enough of miss Janka,
that gramophone maniac,
the police needs to know about it
But when the officer came, miss Janka says
What to do, man, understand I’m afraid to sleep alone
 

And when I play on the gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me then I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have all of my concerns
 

As soon as the strict officer heard it himself and wanted to give advice to the poor maiden
He says to miss Janka, that gramophone maniac
„A pity, I will sleep here”
And since then every night from miss Janka’s room
The bas of officer makes the curtains tremble
 

And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
 


singable
01.02.2025

At the End of the Park





When sunset
makes the sky grow pale,
from the window,
I look around me.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me,
of course,
I know it.
 

It's only an impression,
a trick of my heart
that makes me see
all this.
 

Tenderness
is something that
grows deep
in the soul.
 

If I remember
and if only
I think about you:
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me
and this time,
I know it.
 

You're no longer an impression,
a trick of my heart,
I've found
you again.
 

(At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.)
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me...