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Maroa Darwish - Kasat watan (قصة وطن) перевод текстов на английский

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The story of my land

Teardrop after teardrop...our land is crying
and in a treachery moment our land was demolished,
a child became an orphan...a brother became a victim
and the human heart in us disappeared,
our land is our mother and we killed our mother
our land became a pile of coal,
we divide ourselves...we forgot how to love;
our past encounters became a dream.
 
We were brothers...what happened to us?
one of us kills the other,
our hearts become congeals, our eyes become blind,
years we lived together died in seconds,
I'm not singing, I'm crying;
crying a fate which made me an orphan.
 
Oh my land, what should I tell you?
what should I tell you about our children?
one become homeless...the other cited,
we tasted bitterness and oppression after we left you,
we are all homeless...we became strangers,
we are deprived of grasping your soil.
 
I miss you my land,
I miss a slain past,
we were good to each other,
today the strangely is better.
 
It is our land...oh people,
it's not just a word we can say,
it's not a title of a religion or doctrine,
it's also not a song we can sing,
our land...oh people,
is our passionate mother
who protects us in her lap.
 
Our dreams...our ambitions
were demolished in a moment,
we lost our youth and our days,
in one year we grew 10 years older,
it ended with us...a motherland story
then we knew that longing pain was!
 
I miss you my land,
I miss a slain past,
we were good to each other,
today the strangely is better.
 
  • No utilicen mis traducciones sin crédito o permiso. — Don't use my translations without credit or permission.

  • Tienen permiso de usar mis traducciones como base para hacer otras traducciones, pero solo en este sitio con crédito. — You have permission to use my translations as a base to make other translations, but only on this site and with credit.

  • Terminology: lit. (literally), lat. (latin term), pr. (pronunciation).

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Canary-bird

Free birdie, such a free birdie,
Quail birdie, quail birdie.
What's on your mind, free birdie,
Where are you flying, flying?
 
Then a birdie sat on a fir-tree in a green garden, on a fir-tree,
On a thin, on a smooth
Twig it sat, on a twig.
Oh, sat and started singing, started singing
Oh, in a miserable voice, voice:
 
'Why father, oh, why mother
Do you marry me off, marry me off
Oh, to the soldier, to the boatman,
To the young lad, young lad
 
The soldier has no money,
The boatman has three pennies'
 

Happy Love !

Versions: #2
Happy Love ! Happy pain !
Happy Love ! Happy pain !
 
your rains make me wet
your winds carry me
beneath my legs
the lands have started to walk
this has never hapeened
 
ae,my heart congratulations
this is what love is(x2)
 
Happy pain ! Happy Love !
Happy pain ! Happy Love !
Happy pain ! Happy Love !
Happy pain !
 
initially where you first met me
i am still at that place
your heart is that city
where i came and never left
 
i am like lost,if i got found out
let me met myself in that case
 
ae,my heart congratulations
this is what love is
 
Happy Love ! Happy pain !
Happy Love ! Happy pain !
Happy Love !
 

Body

My feet feel cold, my mother doesn't understand it
In this house, I have to solve everything myself
Cold toes, uncovered floor, heaters don't help
I just need a proper carpet
Mother holds power, I asked if I might
bring a carpet home - I may because I ate all the dumpling soup
I set the house in order1, I brought a fancy carpet home
A few seconds later I saw all black
 
Then hype came over me when I saw
that there was a corpse inside the carpet; shut up, damn citizen
A better place than before because now he lacks wit
Damn, what will I do now, I absolutely lack the instinct
He has a disgusting braid, spoilt-milk mask
He was brought here in a box, lies on the floor, doesn't tighten
his muscles, quite revolting and doesn't move at all,
doesn't blink, doesn't whine, doesn't even stretch his body
What now? Will someone help?
I have carried a corpse to my house from Carpetbarn
Now I'm lying here, vodka doesn't help, nicotine doesn't too
Where will I bring this corpse, it stinks too pungently here
 
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
In the wide barn of Carpetbarn, the corpse got inside the carpet
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
It's December right now, it was last breathing in May
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
Several shots, several holes, there are dozens of bullets in the body
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
I hadn't opened the box if I'd only known it
 
Heroine, cocaine in its breast pocket, firing range on its body
MP3 for a gun, quick death, no agony
Police van took me away, the corpse waits for expertise
but so what, suspended sentence anyway
 
I was sent back home, I slept
off, down my cheeks tears
fell, I held my cold feet between my hands
I lied quiet, sick thoughts shocked my brain
I was permitted to end final things here
Shaking, I packed my bag
The body has holes in this body from its throat2 to navel
Man in blue was like a tail then
I was not to allowed to set the course
And I wasn't even allowed to say 'but'
I had to enjoy the last free hours
In the wrong time, in the wrong place, they had caught the wrong man
 
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
In the wide barn of Carpetbarn, the corpse got inside the carpet
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
It's December right now, it was last breathing in May
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
Several shots, several holes, there are dozens of bullets in the body
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
I hadn't opened the box if I'd only known it
 
Mister Law told me that now I have shit in the bed
Take a paper, write down, bring the most important out
I took the fountain pen, wrote a story for him
I wrote there that
my thinking bone creates quickly, the story has a flowing flow and
the level of the tone is great like an all-piercing arrow3
Half of my brain is a throne, the other a crown
Words, tone peculiar, I had life for school where it was created
No one gave a damn about my story
because nothing in my story had anything to do with the corpse
Another new internee arrived in prison
A scrap of joy disappeared, laugher on my lips went
Do I still have a bit of luck/joy and can my life be expressed
with a clay sculpture? Is there an acceptable methodology
In a bad condition, out of plumb, with a wrong code
I dawdle, in the vastness of prison I get acquainted with my cell
 
(Oh, hello, cell
How have you been?
But how are you?
Okay)
 
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
In the wide barn of Carpetbarn, the corpse got inside the carpet
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
It's December right now, it was last breathing in May
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
Several shots, several holes, there are dozens of bullets in the body
Smell of a corpse
Smell of a corpse
Nice story, right, but in the end I got rid of the corpse
 
  • 1. it might not mean that he actually cleaned, more like 'I was the man in the house' and the second line of this song
  • 2. not accidental choice of words, the expression 'being sick and tired of sth' also uses 'kõri(augu)ni'
  • 3. this line makes a bit more sense in English, it's all absolute nonsense as you can see
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.
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The same goes for reusing parts of my translations in your own (parallel) translations. Id est: it is forbidden. (If a translation is IYO slightly wrong, I'd be glad if commented or PMed.)
If you want to translate my translation into a third language or use it as a basis, you are welcome. Especially if you do it on this website. Just be so kind and mention it and me. :) You can also notify me (in addition, it would make me recheck my work and maybe find errors that you wouldn't copy then) but you don't have to.
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Most of my translations are works in progress. One never knows when a revelation can strike. One word: recheck.

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Blooming

The moonlight flies out of the window.
The footsteps of night
Leave loneliness.
It sounds to see through the way of coming and going
 
How could the falling leaves go back?
Love of the wind
And those kind of loneliness
There are dropped and scattered into a mystery little by little.
 
The journey of life,
I don't know how much pain there is.
Those scars were always healed by the years.
Most of time there is new gloomy mood sprouting silently.
 
Love doesn't know how to express it.
There is only the heart struggled in silence.
The blooming flower with tears in the sky,
I'll always believe her.