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Nasheeds - Jusuf kaj sijan перевод текстов на английский

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Yusuf where are you

All that Waqt1
He was making Dua2
And from Allah3
Asking for Yusuf4
2x
 
CHORUS
Yusuf, Yusuf, where are you?
Yaqub5 cries, and speaks:
Yusuf, where are you?
2x
 
Yusuf was thrown,
By a brother, in a well,
Who brought his shirt
Covered in blood
2x
 
CHORUS 2x
 
Many sleepless nights
Yaqub has spent crying
From all of his cries
He lost his sight
2x
 
CHORUS 2x
 
Allah doesn't allow
The sorrow to the Rasul6,
After all the many years,
He had seen Yusuf again 2x
 
CHORUS 4x
 
  • 1. 'Waqt' [arab. وقت] = 'time'. ()
  • 2. 'Dua' [arab. دعاء] = prayer/invocation/supplication/plea. ()
  • 3. 'Allah' [arab. الله] = 'the God'. ()
  • 4. 'Yusuf' [arab. يوسف‎] = Joseph. ()
  • 5. 'Yaqub' [arab. يعقوب‎] = Jacob - also known as 'Israil' [arab. إسرآءیل] = Israel. ()
  • 6. 'Rasul' [arab. رسول] = 'Messenger' [of God (s.w.t.)]. ()
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Showpiece

Versions: #2
Seryoga took me in to the Van Gogh exhibition,
There were loads of hot women; a knot in my belly.
Touch me if you wish, like I showed him from admissions:
In Van Gogh's exhibition, the showpiece is me!
 
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
 
With Genka and Marinka, we went to Mariinka,*
To listen to some Glinka - the stalls were good enough.
Without a single blinker, in the stalls of Mariinka,
The blondes all got the picture - I'm a Prima, no bluff.
 
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
 
Seryoga took me in to the Van Gogh exhibition,
There were loads of hot women; a knot in my belly.
Touch me if you wish, like I showed him from admissions:
In Van Gogh's exhibition, the showpiece is me!
 
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
In new Laboutins... and some sexy-as-fuck pants!
 
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There

I guess.. The image draws you. My brain guesses.
The divine is approaching. The portrait is getting clearer.
Pure lines, we could only fall in love with them.
My moon, my sun that reproved my hidden face.
I loved her. I've been part of her past.
Don't go away. The clouds will dissipate soon.
Flashes of your body bending between my fingers.
What is time, ?
It's every hour in an hour, I think of you.
 
Chorus
I'm sure life is better there.
I whispered in her ear, words from there.
She's smiling. She's got plenty of time. Nothing's killing her.
The Sun, my Sun is there.
I'm sure life is better there.
I whispered in her ear, words from there.
She's smiling. She's got plenty of time. Nothing's killing her.
The Sun, my Sun is there.
 
I'm looking forward to getting to know you better.
We get along well. No need for learned dialects.
A select atmosphere on you and me and all over the world.
Don't worry, baby, the CC never buys them again.
I'm shooted, my sweetie.
In the blink of an eye, I agree. I'm getting up.
A crazy perfume floats in the room.
It only happens once.
If what they say is true, maybe it's better.
 
Chorus (I'm sure life...)
 
I feel so high.
Like the desire that Dezri communicated to me.
On the bed, moaning, literally liquefied
The worship, the law by which my heart is governed, erects a statue with the effigy of my muse.
I'm confusing the images.
The one that makes the most impact on me is part of its fact
I condemn, but deep down, it's done.
I never knew who you were.
She left me,
And of my duty, I thought I did what I had to do.
 
Chorus (I'm sure life...)
 
Chorus (I'm sure life...)
 
Over there. Over there. Over there.
 

Forever

I don't believe [the] silence hurts
But like that there is nothing to do
You cry that you do not sleep with me
You just want to stay away from me.
 
And go away on a sunny day
But I know you feel like dying
Don't talk, cry, I think of my mistakes
With a final glance it's over with you.
 
(Chours)
You who are different
Never give up
Run and go with the wind
And away from me ...
 
That's how a love ends
Without desiring to try again
Get lost do not look me in the eye
Bring at least this last piece with you
 
(Chours)
You who are different
Never give up
Run and go with the wind
And away from me ... forever.
 
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Sad Tropics

Versions: #2
We're told about Indians who suffer and are becoming scarce.
Aren't we themselves oppressed peoples?
No penis sheats, no curare,
but the same terror that forces us to back off.
 
Some used to set off in the morning and come back
in the evening, living off the land and false hopes.
On piddling hunting grounds,
you still own the right to be cynical
and to refuse to follow the crowd like donkeys1,
and not to go dancing like pieces of machinery
on the incense smokes of
on the incense smokes of sad tropics,
among apocalyptic flute sounds.
 
Some used to set off in the morning and come back
in the evening, hunters-gatherers clad in black.
Even though the forest is dying, rotting away,
this is not enough to be considered a challenge.
 
Some Atlantises again
Some Atlantises again are collapsing into the sea,
but all that dies one day is reborn one day.
We still own the right to sit there
in the din of great trees and saws,
not to ape others, to pretend,
not to go dancing like pieces of machinery
on the blue smokes of sad tropics,
on the blue smokes of sad tropics,
among apocalyptic flute sounds.
 
Naked Indian girls, ageless women
who will have turned into peat or folliage,
the day you wake up, the swamp
will be covered in steel up to the clouds.
 
And in front of precious marble pools
the Indian girls come to die and become scarce.
Aren't we themselves the rarest of Indians?
It might not be too late to save us.
 
Since we all have to meet our end someday, somewhere,
we will go into hinding in some pond,
in one of those lagoons spared by History,
where the sand is a home, and the wind is a tune,
in one of those sad tropics' lagoons
where the sand is a home, and the wind is a tune,
in one of those sad tropics' lagoons.
 
In one of those lagoons
where the sand is a home.
in one of those sad tropics' lagoons.
 
In one of those lagoons
In one of those lagoons
 
  • 1. lit. 'like a goat', but the term used for a person implies stubbornness and stupidity
This translation does not claim to be of any particular value.
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You can reuse it as you please.
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