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Riccardo Cocciante - Le coup de soleil перевод текстов на английский

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Sunburn

Versions: #2
I'be been burnt by the sun
by love, by I love you.
I don't know how, I need to remember.
If it's a dream you are really beautiful.
I don't sleep anymore. I'm travelling
on boats that are cast away.
I see you naked on satin
And it prevents me from sleepling. Come tomorow.
 
But you're not here, and if I'm dreaming it is too bad.
When you leave, I don't sleep anymore.
But you're not here, and you know I want to go there,
The opposite window, and visit your paradise.
 
I put your pictures in my songs,
And sailboats in my house.
I wanted to shove off, I don't want it anymore.
I live upside down, I don't like my street anymore.
I was 100 years old, I don't recognize myself.
I don't like people since I saw you.
I don't want to dream anymore. I would like you to come
Make me fly, make me I love you.
 
That's it. It's sure. I have to decide.
I'm going to escape, and I'm falling.
I know you're waiting for me near the fountain:
I saw you get down from a rainbow.
I take the plunge in the summer rains.
I sail in my area.
It's a nice day, we can paddle.
The sea is calm. We can shove off.
 

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amazarashi - Waiting for Spring 春待ち

Versions: #2
amazarashi - Waiting for Spring 春待ち
 
The alley to the right, when your back faces the station, meets a dead end at a freight warehouse.
 
There, across the corner from a coin laundry, is the road to her house.
 
''Though I follow a number of memories, the road I'll follow is this alone.''
 
I stay with only these sentimentalities, which I'll one day leave behind.
 
A certain town. The passing of heavy rain.
 
A blanket of snow. Damp, slushy snow.
 
In the end, I rise up against the dancing snow, and I wait for spring.
 
At the mercy of high waves the gulls drifting about beneath the midnight sun are lost in the engulfing darkness. I offer my condolences, and I wait for spring.
 
Beyond this point, the darkness grows. I wince at it.
 
Suddenly, the lyrics I've written are worthless, so I wait for spring.
 
The flowers count the seconds until their bloom. Faintly, sunlight pours in.
 
A good omen. On this day, I leave town, and wait for spring.
 
Somewhere, I'll wait for spring.
 
Somewhere, I'll wait for spring.
 
Somewhere.
 
Somewhere.
 

Pilot Tim

Morning, folks, the skies are open
Your subservient Pilot Tim here speaking
Time is money, or maybe pleasure
Where shall we fly today, then?
 
Our airship is safe
And the weather overboard enchanting
Tray tables up, seatbacks upright
And no speaking during the flight, please!
 
Bon voyage, bon voyage
Moi et toi, ca va
Bon voyage, bon voyage
Bon voyage, mama
 
Good morning again, we're aloft already
If you're scared, then ask the stewardesses: where's the rum?
The world is small - with mountains and chasms
Enough space for everybody -- for me and you all too
 
Our airship is safe
And the weather overboard enchanting
Tray tables up, seatbacks upright
And no speaking during the flight, please!
 
Bon voyage, bon voyage
Moi et toi, ca va
Bon voyage, bon voyage
Moi et toi, ca va
 
Bon voyage, bon voyage
Moi et toi, ca va
Bon voyage, mama
 
Every airport or station building
I'll be waiting when I'm called
Ready to throw myself into any escapade
With you, with you, my friend
 
I'l be waiting only
Only if someone calls me
If only someone will be calling me!
 
Bon voyage, bon voyage
Moi et toi, ca va
Bon voyage, bon voyage
Bon voyage, mama
 
Bon voyage, bon voyage
Moi et toi, ca va
Bon voyage, bon voyage
Moi et toi, ca va
 
Oh, Oh-oh
 
Align paragraphs

The Night Jasmine

And the night flowers open up,
the hour I think about my loved ones.
Among the viburnum trees appeared
the twilight butterflies.
 
It's been a while already, since the cries subsided:
over there a lone house whispers.
Under the wings the nest is fast asleep,
like eyes under eyelashes.
 
From the open calyxes exudes
the odor of red strawberries.
Over there, in the sitting room a light shines.
Grass is born on top of the graves.
 
A late bee murmurs
finding all taken the cells.
(*) The hen-like constellation in the azure
farmyard goes by with its chirping of stars.
 
Over the entire night exudes
the odor that goes with the wind.
It goes the light up the stairs;
it flickers in the upper floor: it has gone off...
 
Now it's dawn: a tad crumpled,
the petals close; within the secret
and soft receptacle is being conceived
some new happiness still unknown.
 
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Psalm

Have you seen your mum?
Have you seen your father?
Have you met your maker?
He lives here in our town
 
Have you seen your woman?
Have you seen your man?
Have you seen your true self?
You live in the same town
 
Have you played with death?
Or did you die young?
Have you played with your life?
You live in the same town
 
Some have a tongue
Others a hand
Most people have a master
who lives in our town
 
Some crush their heads
Others keep clean
But no one knows anything
in our little town