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Old December 20th, 2015 #1
Alex Him
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Любэ



"Lyube (Russian: Любэ, also romanized as Ljube or Lube) is a Russian rock band from Lubertsy, a suburb of Moscow. Lyube's music is a mixture of several genres, with influences from both Russian folk music, rock, Russian chanson, and Soviet military songs. The band was founded in 1989, and since then have released 16 albums. Lyube's producer and main songwriter is Igor Matvienko."

Text by Wikipedia.




"Ребята с нашего двора" из альбома "Песни о людях" (1997) / "The guys from our courtyard" from album "Songs about people" (1997)







When you get tired from the evening noise
Then go through the old lanes
And introduced himself friends next to himself
And breathe the student air

This wonderful and blessed evening
Repeated every spring
It will seize you by open conversation
And will rock like suspension bridge

And you will sing about the light in your favorite window
And about the stars that burn silently above the horizon
And you will sing and maples will sigh softly
And again guys from our courtyard will join in to you

And you will be remember the sounds of the accordion
From the windows wide open at midnight.
You will remember Vitka red troublesome neighbor
And Cyril with name "flakon".

You remember wearing beer in cans?
It cursed the whole yard.
And remember you and I have smoked secretly on the balcony?
And then there was a serious conversation with father.

And I thank the Spring
For the homeland that still alive yet
And for Gagarin
Who once made his great flight in April

Translation by Alex Him.





"Солдат" из альбома "Полустаночки" (2000) / "Soldier" from album "Small railway stations" (2000)








Third day on the road, wind, stones, rains,
Still ahead and ahead, our company holds up
Third day on the road, hey, brother, don't be sad -
An order is an order, every one of us knows.

Write a little letter, nothing is dearer for fighters.
Write a couple of words, you girls, for your boys.

And at sunrise ahead marches on the company of soldiers
Goes on, to win and to not die;
And you, give them a smoke out there, comrade chief sergeant,
I believe in your spirit, soldier, soldier, soldierÖ

Third day on the road, wind, stones, rains,
At sunrise we to battle, the day shall begin with fire.
Third day on the road, and who knows what awaits us,
Third day on the road and sunrise comes.

Write a little letter, how is our beloved home doing?
From far-far away clouds shall carry it to me.
And at sunrise the company goes on ahead.

Earth fell, from the sky earth fell,
Tearing the scream: "A bitch you are, war!"
Armor melted, the machine gun choked breathlessly,
You looked into the eyes of death, sergeant of the guard.

Translation by Ana.





"Там за туманами" из альбома "Песни о людях" (1997) / "There Beyond the Fog" from album "Songs about people" (1997)








Blue sea, nothing but sea astern.
Blue sea and we're far from home.
There beyond the endless, hazy fog,
There beyond the fog, lies our homeland shore.

The waves whisper, implore and tug,
But these wondrous waves can't stop or detain us.
There beyond the endless, hazy fog,
There beyond the fog, they love and await us.

Sevastopol, Kamchatka and Kronstadt await us.
Our homeland has faith in us and awaits its native sons,
There beyond the endless, hazy fog,
There beyond the fog, their wives cannot sleep.

And we'll return, of course, we'll finish this voyage,
And we'll smile and hold our children close.
There beyond this endless, hazy fog,
There beyond the fog, we'll finish this song.

Translation by moose amos.
 
Old December 20th, 2015 #2
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Дидюля



"Valery Didyulya (Belor. Valerie Mіhaylavіch Dzidzyulya, January 24 in 1969, Grodno, Byelorussian SSR, USSR) - Belarusian composer, band leader "Didyulya." Performed folk-Music and music in the genre of fusion with the influence of the style New Age."

Text by Wikipedia.





"Айседора" из альбома "Фламенко" (2000) / "Isadora" from album "Flamenco" (2000)


"Angela Isadora Duncan (May 26 or 27, 1877 Ė September 14, 1927) was an American dancer. Born in California, she lived in Western Europe and the Soviet Union from the age of 22 until her death at age 50. She performed to acclaim throughout Europe.

Duncan's fondness for flowing scarves contributed to her death in an automobile accident in Nice, France, when she was a passenger in an Amilcar. Her silk scarf, draped around her neck, became entangled around the open-spoked wheels and rear axle, breaking her neck."

Text by Wikipedia.










"Arabica" из альбома "Дорога в Багдад" (2002) / "Arabica" from album "The Road to Baghdad" (2002)










"Пещерный город Инкерман" из альбома "Пещерный город Инкерман" (2006) / "Cave City Inkerman" from album "Cave City Inkerman" (2006)


"Inkerman (Russian: Инкерман) is a city in the Crimean peninsula. It is situated 5 kilometres east of Sevastopol, at the mouth of the Chernaya River that flows into Sevastopol Inlet (aka the North Inlet).

Inkerman is said to mean a "cave fortress" in Turkish."

Text by Wikipedia.





 
Old December 20th, 2015 #3
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Аквариум



"Aquarium or Akvarium (Russian: Аква́риум) is a Russian rock group formed in Leningrad (now Saint Petersburg, Russia) in 1972. The band had many member changes over its 40-year history, and at the end the only remaining original member was lead singer and founder Boris Grebenshikov."

Text by Wikipedia.





"Мама я не могу больше пить" из альбома "Беспечный русский бродяга" (2006) / "Mom, I cannot drink anymore" from album "Carefree Russian Rover" (2006)

Maybe it's the unofficial video.










Mom, I cannot drink anymore,
Mom, I cannot drink anymore,
Mom, pour out all the drinks standing on table,
I cannot drink anymore.
I have an iron lasso on me,
I cross myself when I see a wineglass,
I'm not able to maintain this lie,
Mom, I cannot drink anymore.

The patriots will say I proved to be weak,
And I've practically sold my home country.
They feel easy, but I go down to the bottom.
I see how the thread is becoming all thinner.
I didn't play the fool,
For 35 years I worked all day long,
But I cannot kill an alien in myself,
Mom, I cannot drink anymore.

Mom, I cannot drink anymore,
Mom, I cannot drink anymore,
Mom, call all my friends
And tell them that I cannot drink anymore.
Here it is - "Catcher in the Rye",
And there are knives under my bare feet,
I'm so tired of "living not by lie",
I cannot drink anymore.

Tell my brothers that now I've grown adult,
Tell the sister that I'm sick in my soul.
I might be an ordinary man
But I missed this role.
I've entered the endless forest,
I look upwards, but I cannot see the sky.
Tell in the church that devil stands in all doorways,
the Demon Alcohol.

Mom, I cannot drink anymore,
Mom, I cannot drink anymore,
Mom, pour out all the drinks standing on table,
I cannot drink anymore.
I have an iron lasso on me
I cross myself when I see a wineglass,
I'm not able to maintain this lie,
Mom, I cannot drink anymore.

Translation by barsiscev.





"Девушка с веслом" из альбома "Лошадь белая" (2008) / "The Girl with an Oar" from album "A white horse" (2008)








The Girl with an Oar rides on a spirited horse
With her sword unsheathed, I see you came to me.
Come in my yard, knock in my window,
You see I don't sleep, waiting for you for a long time.

Tell me all the truth, not hiding anything.
How are they, the Prince of Tver, the Prince of Ryazan?
How are wires buzzing in the stepp?
How do the Germans and the Horde live in Moscow?

How does your friend live, the Pioneer with Trumpet?
He's all in the cracks, but he's still with you together.
Say hello to him from me,
Until now it's very hot from his fire.

I'll pour you some water from a well,
Take it into your Clean Ponds.
Let the silence shine there,
Let the Sun and the Moon take a walk there.

And whatever happen, hear me, don't be sad,
Dissect with oar the smooth streams in the sky,
Because your oar is like a dashing damask sword,
It'll recover all, and the things will go the best way.

The Girl with an Oar, you are beautiful one.
We are there especially to overcome it (to correct ourselves),
We are strong in our job.
Come to me more, The Girl with an Oar

Translation by barsiscev.





"Поутру в поле" из альбома (?) / "In the morning on the field" from album (?)
Possibly song is not included in any album.





Who could tell about ways of heart?
As it burned halfway to paradise
As it was singing to keep warm
How to dance on the edge

Wherever we went, everything was shallow
Wherever we come: all not what us need
And then our hands move apart branchs of tree
And we went out in the morning on the field

And we see power of a Cross in the morning on the field
In the morning on the field. Oh, my God, how beautiful!
God, how beautiful! My heart is on the freedom
And now we are in the morning on the field

"Crimson and white" came into my songs
We are not here for the parade
We stand together and we fall together
But I will sing to thee, if thou shalt be glad [to woman]

We are waist-deep in the grass and bare feet
And now we come, we dance with the gods
Heaven and earth - that is our share
We were given a freedom in the morning on the field
We were given a freedom in the morning on the field
We were given a freedom in the morning on the field

Translation by (?)




"Crimson and white" from poetry of Mayakovsky


NIGHT

Crimson and white have been tossed and crumbled,
into green they have flung ducats in handfuls,
and to black palms of windows running together
they have dealt burning yellow cards.
etc.
 
Old December 24th, 2015 #4
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Ногу свело!



"Nogu Svelo! (Russian: Ногу свело! / Cramp in the Leg!) is a popular Russian rock band from Moscow, usually associated with humor and parody and accessible and sometimes childishly simple melodies. They have experimented with many styles in the past and seem to pay particular attention to instrumentation and arrangements and production values."

Text by Wikipedia.





"Московский романс" из альбома "Счастлива, потому что беременна: Синий альбом" (1997) / "Moscow Romance" from album "Happy because I'm pregnant. The Blue Album" (1997)

The text is a parody of a replica of beggars.







Excuse us, please
Help us, good people!
We ourselves are not local...
We were starving and wander.

We came for treatment
and we have all the documents stolen...
At the stations
have no place to stay in.

On the platform is the grandfather
Rickets and flat feet...
Sorry, we are to you
For assistance call.

Do not be angry, dear people...
Good luck!
Sorry for the appeal,
I wish you health and happiness...
Help, please!

Your land, your family...
Help, what will be able to!

Translation by (?)





"Волки" из альбома "Счастлива, потому что беременна: Зелёный альбом" (1999) / "Wolves" from album "Happy because I'm pregnant. The Green Album" (1999)








zom-zom, night behind the window
Starry night falls from the roof
The victims of the day the smell of the earth
And you look in the sky, I know you're not asleep
No, no, I have not forgotten
How many are with you, we, love, together
So, as we are, no one loved
Can a hundred years, maybe two hundred

Chorus:

If you fall asleep you, I too sleep
To always be near to you
If you go, I go
After you
As the night after the star

The cold, the shadow is not visible
You waited for the hour of the wolf
We are close, and our fangs
Remember the warmth of fresh meat

Translation by (?)





"Идем на Восток!" из альбома "Идем на Восток!" (2005) / "Going East!" from album "Going East!" (2005)

It is a soundtrack to the movie "The Turkish Gambit" / "Турецкий гамбит" (2005).








Crescent silent, and again with the mysterious East wind blew.
Crescent silent, and again go to war Petersburg and Istanbul.
Hanging month old, does not want a damn, does turn into the moon.
He listens to songs, sad songs about those who languish in captivity.

Life hung in the balance,
Step - and body on the slippery board.
Steel wanted blood sip
Steel wheezed: Go East!

Hum drums, but evil Ottomans sit and pass the city.
Whistling scimitars, but hazy sky lit up the young star.
Defeated the enemy, and sneaky traitor played his final gambit.
Silent crescent and the departing train looks sad.

Life hung in the balance
Step - and body on the slippery board
Steel wanted blood sip
Steel wheezed: Go East!

Translation by (?)
 
Old December 28th, 2015 #5
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Denis Montero


I only know that it is the Russian man.










 
Old December 31st, 2015 #6
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This is my last post on the forum this year
(until the new year more than 8 hours).
Happy New Year for all !!!
I hope that we will meet in the next year here!

Music for you





Дидюля





"Путь воина" из альбома "Музыка неснятого кино" (2007) / "Warrior way" from album "The music of the never shot cinema" (2007)










"Сербская" из альбома "Орнаментальный" (2012) / "Serbian" from album "Ornamental" (2012)

It is unofficial video.










"Полет на воздушном шаре" из альбома "Музыка неснятого кино" (2007) / "Balloon flight" from album "The music of the never shot cinema" (2007)

It is unofficial video.





 
Old January 5th, 2016 #7
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Ирина Богушевская



"Irina Bogushevskaya (Russian: Ири́на Алекса́ндровна Богуше́вская; born 2 November 1965) is a Russian singer, poet, and composer of theater jazz and cabaret rock."

Text by Wikipedia.





"Нежные вещи" из альбома "Нежные вещи" (2004) / "The gentle things" from album "The gentle things" (2004)

It's the unofficial video.






THE GENTLE THINGS

Days pass like shadows -
quietly or in dismay.
Let they pass!
I know by heart this wonderful dream whole.
And I remember the moment when I wake up.

I'll saddle a wind
on the blue planet.
I'll find the girl
in the blue garden.
I'll throw her a handful of music notes.
And she marveled that herself sing:

I do the gentle things.
I always do only gentle things.
Hey, Love!
Only with You [Love] -
and in honor of Your name [Love].
Only with You [Love] -
and in honor of Your name [Love].
Only with You [Love] - and for You [Love].

When tracery of shiver bloom
on the our skin
and a candle draw cuneiform
of all our caresses hour by hour
on the wall by game of the our shadows -
then I hear the music notes.

A someone invisible sings.
Oh! It will throw a thread for me!
It will permit me to grasp,
and will permit me to repeat
this music at least once!!

And the whole night I kiss and kiss him,
and endless waves beat in us as in the shore.
And the whole night I kiss and kiss him,
and I very afraid wake up.

The generations falls in the desert of dream
as the leaves in autumn day.
But eternally the spring comes
and with it one girl sings again:

I do the gentle things.
I always do only gentle things.
Hey, Love!
Only with You [Love] -
and in honor of Your name [Love].
Only with You [Love] -
and in honor of Your name [Love].
Only with You [Love] - and for You [Love].

Translation by Alex Him.





"Наперегонки с волной" из альбома "Нежные вещи" (2004) / "A race with a wave" from album "The gentle things" (2004)

It's the unofficial video.






A RACE WITH A WAVE

I'll fly away to Marseille or Athen,
And shall sing for fishermen only once,
And then dolphins will take me
To in their a shoal, as a member.
The choppy waters will dissolve
My earthly appearance
Which bored for me.
Then I acquire the freedom of
A race with a wave
Among the shoal of dolphins.

A race with a wave,
Sometimes under the sun,
Sometimes under the moon.
I will obey only
The call stellar shoals.
It what was formerly with me
Go away with each wave,
Because the dolphin
Does not know the word "Goodbye".

You do not wander
Along the desert banks,
Don't call, don't wait
And don't be sad.
We would have a common path,
If only you could become a dolphin.
You now have been flush with me,
The weightless and free,
Under immense firmament of sky,
Race with a wave with me -
If you have enter in these waters.

A race with a wave,
Sometimes under the sun,
Sometimes under the moon.
I no longer need to choose, I know the way.
It what was formerly with me
Go away with each wave,
Because the dolphin
Does not know the word "Forget".

I give everything -
Memory, passion, hope, inspiration,
Thousands of harmonies, caresses and books -
for a this moment, a very long moment.
The crowns of these stone pines will be worship
To the sun and the winds eternally.
I shall be a dolphin forever.
I always shall be
Play the tig with Endless
In the blue sea.

A race with a wave,
Sometimes under the sun,
Sometimes under the moon.
I do not need anyone,
and I pity nothing.
It what was formerly with me
Go away with each wave,
Because the dolphin
Does not know the word "Sadness".

A race with a wave,
Sometimes under the sun,
Sometimes under the moon.
I do not need anyone,
and I pity nothing.
It what will be next to me
Comes with each wave,
Because the dolphin
Does not know the word "Sadness".

Translation by Alex Him.





"Снова живи" из альбома "Шёлк" (2010) / "Be alive again" from album "Silk" (2010)

The dancers: Ксения Куликова and Борис Жуйко.

It's the unofficial video.






BE ALIVE AGAIN

My darling, if you wound my heart,
My heart will have nowhere to go.
It have nowhere to go, except to go in the song:
In the life everything is bad,
But in the song everything is wonderful.


If you wound my heart like this,
And you glance beckoned me, and after fooled me,
And strike with help of short phrase as knife -
Then Heart crying - because it is alive.

My Heart - cry,
If you thaw from love as ice.
My Heart - cry,
These tears sweeter than honey for me.
How could I renunciate from love forever?
My Heart - crying, endure,
Hope and be alive again,
My Heart - be alive again.

If here and so the Heart to cry,
I this tears hide in music notes.
Droplets of pain, droplets of light,
I give you to drink this music.

My Heart was calm and ease,
No one could make its such pain.
You came, and now I'm burning, crying,
But I bless this fire.

My Heart - cry,
If you thaw from love as ice.
My Heart - cry,
These tears sweeter than honey for me.
How could I renunciate from love forever?
My Heart - crying, endure,
Hope and be alive again,
My Heart be alive again.

I all for nothing kept my rest in during some years,
I all for nothing erected my ice palace:
At the small moment it is melted
And broken down the fortress,
Now I have no any defend against you.

You will smile - all as in a fog.
Let you beckon me, let you be fooled me.
We will together or we will not together,
But I catch you in the my song forever.

My Heart - cry,
If you thaw from love as ice.
My Heart - cry,
These tears sweeter than honey for me.
How could I renunciate from love forever?
My Heart - crying, endure,
Hope and be alive again,
My Heart be alive again. Be alive!

Translation by Alex Him.

Last edited by Alex Him; January 8th, 2016 at 07:08 AM.
 
Old January 8th, 2016 #8
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Владимир Высоцкий



"Vladimir Semyonovich Vysotsky (1938-1980) - (Russian: Влади́мир Семёнович Высо́цкий) was a Russian singer-songwriter, poet, and actor whose career had an immense and enduring effect on Soviet and Russian culture. He became widely known for his unique singing style and for his lyrics, which featured social and political commentary in often humorous street jargon. He was also a prominent stage and screen actor. Though his work was largely ignored by the official Soviet cultural establishment, he achieved remarkable fame during his lifetime, and to this day exerts significant influence on many of Russia's popular musicians and actors who wish to emulate his iconic status."

Text by Wikipedia.





Баллада о брошенном корабле / The ballad of the abandoned ship









Баллада о брошенном корабле






THE BALLAD OF THE ABANDONED SHIP


On that day sailors said to the captain “Hey, man!”
And the ship’s boy would shout at the skipper;
And unleashing their hands and unbandaging bands,
On the shrouds my sailors were skipping.

All went crazy in order
to gain their ends,
Reaching phantoms of shores,
reaching blankets of lands,

Those lands of our dreams, of our slumbers -
Of Magellan and of Columbus!

As for me I will not
See the shore or the land:
At the speed of ten knots
Boy, so fast did I strand!

But the rest - they are bound
To the glorious aim...
Yes - for running aground
I myself am to blame.

And they left me behind, all my brothers, my fleet;
Those more sensitive - swallowed a tear,
That great voyage the Armada just had to complete,
And no ship was allowed to veer.

Cursing bad luck, the weather,
The treacherous sea,
All my shipmates together
Walked out on me.

They saluted me twice with a cannon -
From Columbus and from Magellan!

I drink foam, when hot -
Water is way too low,
And my starboard and port -
Off the water they glow.

They are dirty, of course,
They, of course, are unclean;
All my wounds, all my sores
Can be easily seen.

There’s a hole in my port - it was wrought by a shot,
And my starboard is “scarboard” - look here:
Marks and tracks on my decks from the battles we fought,
And my spine wrecked by some buccaneer.

My serrated old keel -
Boy, was it brought to grief!
All my belly is peeled -
It was ripped by a reef!

I’m decaying, forlorn and forgotten -
Even salty things may become rotten!

Winds my blood suck and drink
Through so many a chink,
Winds give me pain and kink,
I am quite on the blink.

I’m exposed to them
Nights and days, nights and days...
Into my soul and stem
Winds are hammering nails.

Winds behave like the rakes, evil, cheeky and bold,
They mess everything up, play the goat;
Wish they’d choke with the wine that I keep in my hold,
Or, rampaging, would set me afloat.

Of this chance I’m convinced -
That’s a desperate creed!
But it’s not evil winds
That at present I need;

My sails droop like the breasts of a slattern,
And my mast looks a creaky, thin batten.

But my time I will bide -
The eighth wonder must come,
When a merciful tide
Washes off all the scum.

Dew will fall on my deck -
It will wash off the spell;
Like the veins on the neck
Will my sails promptly swell!

I’ll rush after my fleet, catch them and - I’ll forgive
The Armada that badly remembers;
I hold them no grudge, I’ll be glad to receive
Back aboard all my former crew members.

But they don’t want to let
Me inside their ranks.
Shut your mouth, corvette,
Don’t sting me with your pranks!

I’m your twin, don’t you see?
I’ve escaped from the blight,
We are not short of sea,
Frigate, take to the right!

Won’t you lend me a hand?
Do you mean I must go?
If I was on the strand -
Then I’m out of the row?!

Let me feel here at ease -
Aren’t we ships, aren’t we friends?
We are not short of seas
We are not short of lands!

Those lands of our dreams, of our slumbers -
Of Magellan and of Columbus.

Translation, George Tokarev.
Edited by Robert Titterton





THE BALLAD OF AN ABANDONED SHIP

On that day, all derided the Captain, all scoffed;
Ship’s boy, skipper - all swore fast and loud.
Proudly rearing and tearing their bandages off.
Sailors bellowed and raged in the shrouds.

Then the doors of our brains
Off the hinges were torn
And were carried away
To a mirage-like shore.

In the faraway Promised Lands landing,
Lands Columbian and Magellanian.

But it seems I will not
See those lands newly found:
Doing eight or nine knots
I ran firmly aground.

Ours were dangerous goals,
But the brave lads were game.
Someone steered for the shoals.
I’m the one more to blame.

Then my brothers sailed on - I was left all alone.
The more sensitive ones swallowed spray,
And without me the great daring voyage went on -
They just wrote me off, and sailed away.

Roundly cursing the weather,
Pate and pitiless chance,
They sailed off, all together,
My unfortunate sons.

First, two salvoes, and then they would sail on:
Hail, Columbus! And then hail, Magellan!

I drink foam as the waves
Slap my sides - I don’t care.
Decks to bottom the staves
Have been crashed and laid bare.

Slime and seaweed and gore
Thickly cover my sides.
You can look at my sores -
I have nothing to hide.

Here’s a cannonball furrow, quite close to the frame;
Here are scars left by ramming and fire;
You can see where I was many years ago maimed
By a pirate’s well-honed grappling irons.

Look, my keel is uneven,
As if gnawed by huge teeth -
My lean belly was riven
Long ago by a reef.

I am rolling and naming and wheezing
Though I’ve been on the high seas well seasoned.

Winds are sucking my blood
Creeping for’ard by stealth.
Whipping starboard to port...
Winds, they will be my death.

They lambaste me and wail
From first light to first light,
They are driving long nails
In my soul day and night.

Like unbidden guests out on a rampage, the swine,
Winds kick everything here upside down.
How I wish that they choked in my dark holds on wine,
Or in fury pulled me off the ground.

They’re stronger, that’s sure -
I’m a wild beast at bay.
But it’s not the winds’ fury
That’ll help me today.

Like thin arms are my masts, thin and frail.
Like an old woman’s breasts are my sails.

This will be the eighth wonder -
A generous swell
Will sweep over and under
My mouldy old shell.

I will shake off the spell,
I will rise on a crest,
And my white sails will swell
Like a young maiden’s breast.

I’ll catch up with the fleet, I will show no disdain
For my kin who chose not to remember.
I will let my old crew come on board once again.
I will not rake old memories’ embers.

But there’s no room for me
In the fleet line today.
You play dangerously,
Cruiser - out of my way!

Are we brothers or not?
I got out of a hole...
Frigate, bear hard a-port.
There’s enough sea for all...

That it should come to this -
You reject me, by God!
Once one’s stuck on the reefs,
Is one wiped out for good?

Open ranks, heed my call,
We’re all ships in the end,
There’s enough sea for all
And there is enough land,

So look forward, men, to happy landings
In Columbian lands and Magellanian.

Translation, Sergei Roy.





BALLAD OF THE ABANDONED SHIP

That day pure madness became the norm
Captains, skippers and boys were as equals
Standing up as if they were completely reborn
Sailors scurried on masts, scaring seagulls

Squeaky doors of their minds
Flying off at the hinge
At the thought of mirages
Of land’s lusty fringe.

Those coveted and undiscovered
By Columbus, Magellan and others.

Only I will not see
Those shores abound.
Since the time I flew
Nine knots ran aground.

And the goals of lads
Are as noble as mine.
And where I now am -
No one’s fault, only mine.

All the frigates - my brothers, my fleet pass me by,
But the truest of friends swallowed sea’s salty spray
Turned their bows to meet open seas, open sky,
Set their sails in full, breaking wave.

Cursing weather and fortune,
Fearing nothing but death,
All my children - my crew
Have forsaken my decks

They saluted from lifeboat’s cannon
For Columbus and one for Magellan.

I can only drink foam.
Waves cannot reach my lips.
Tired flanks are exposed
From the deck to the hips.

And my flanks are not pretty,
No hiding the truth.
Go on look!.. At my sores,
For I cannot be soothed.

Near my rib is a hole - mark of black cannonballs
Scares from ramming by pirates and even...
You can also see slashes where I have been mauled,
Barbs and hooks of the pirates receiving.

Now my keel is resembling
AN old guitar.
Coral reefs gave my
Belly a horrible scar.

I am dying and fading and nearing my doom,
Cruel saltwater rotting the deepest of wounds.

Winds are sucking my soul
Through the gaps and the hole,
Off the decks, like the trolls
And my breath they will stall.

I am helpless before them
From morning till night.
Winds are hammering nails
Through my soul with all might.

Like a brawler unleashed, the wind does what it wants.
This wind is most unwelcome guest.
It could drown in wine that is stored in my holds,
Or release me from my lengthy rest.

I took faith in this story
Like a trapped wild beast.
But these winds that are angry,
I need you the least.

Masts of mine like arms of a wretch
Sails like an old breast outstretched.

There will be a miracle during my watch.
Dear friend, the good surf,
Give my body a wash.
Holy water of ocean’s

Life-giving dew
Will remove from my bones The hated taboo,
And will fill up my sails.
My delay will be through.

I’ll catch up to them and forgive
My old friends who forgot to remember.
To my crew, ample decks I’ll give.
I cannot keep a grudge for crewmembers.

Only I think there’s not
Any room in the ranks.
Make some room, hey, corvette,
Or I’ll rip up your flanks.

What’s the matter? I’m back.
I escaped certain death.
Dear frigate, stay back!
We can all catch our breath.

What is with... all of you?
I can leave!.. Not come back.
If I once was marooned,
Is there no way back?

Let me join your call!
Sailships aren’t we all?
There’ll be enough water for all!
There’ll be enough shores for all!

Those coveted and undiscovered
By Columbus, Magellan and others.

Translation, Eugene Derbarmdiker.

http://www.wysotsky.com/

Last edited by Alex Him; January 8th, 2016 at 08:33 AM.
 
Old January 8th, 2016 #9
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Владимир Высоцкий




Чужая колея / Someone Elseís Rut









SOMEONE ELSEíS RUT

No one to blame now for my lot -
I groan and weep:
In someone elseís rut I got,
itís very deep.

I used to pick and choose my goals,
I felt so proud,
And in this rut, itís just no go -
no getting out.

It has such slippery and steep
Rough edges, and it is so deep.

I am cursing those who made this rut,
Iím afraid I shall soon burst a gut,
Iím declining the noun, like a nut:
"Of the rut, to the rut, by the rut..."

I wonder why I canít stay put
such cockiness.
Conditions in the rut are good -
well, more or less.

No one will slap you down, no fear -
no fear at all!
And if you want a nice career -
get on the ball!

The folks are always nice and fat,
Quite comfortable in the rut,

And I quickly convinced myself that
We are all in the same cosy rut.
Steady, mate, as you go: wheel to wheel -
Youíll end up where everyone will.

Then someone shouted boiling mad,
"Make way, you there!"
And he began to fight the rut,
the crazy bear.

He burnt in argument his whole
tank of goodwill.
Phut went the inserts of his soul -
snap went the wheel!

And still, the silly ass fought hard,
Itís wider now, the bloody rut.

Soon we see that his track is cut short -
Someoneís booted the crank off the road.
And indeed, who was he to obstruct
Heavy traffic in that good old rut?

My turn to fret, the coolerís dead,
it will not cool.
No driving, this - itís blood and sweat,
itís push and pull.

I mean, I should get out and push -
I really ought,
But other stragglers in the slush
may pull me out.

I wait and wait for help in vain.
"This rutís all wrong", I think again.

How Iíd like to spit slush, slime and muck
In this alien rutís stupid mug -
I dug deeper, and got firmly stuck,
And killed all hope for those at the back.

I felt myself break out in sweat,
now cold, now hot.
And I went gingerly ahead
along a board.

Just look, the rutís been washed away
by springtime floods,
Weíre saved at last - there is a way
out of this rut!

My wheels kept spitting viscous mud -
To hell with this ungodly rut!

Listen you, stragglers, do as I do!
Do not trail me. Iíll go it alone.
This is my rut, it isnít for you -
So get out by a rut of your own!

Translation, Sergei Roy.





SOMEONE ELSEíS RUT

No oneís to blame for what I got,
I moan and weep, -
I ended up in someoneís rut,
Itís long and deep.

I made my plan, I set my goal
Deliberately,
Thereís no escape for me at all, -
No liberty.

The edges of this dreadful rut
Are slippery and smeared with mud.

I curse the ones who dug me in,
My tolerance is growing thin.
And Iím declining, like a nut:
ďTo a rut, in a rut, with a rut...Ē

Why am I eager to break free?
Itís not unbearable!
And living in this rut for me
Is not so terrible.

No one can ram you from the side, -
You canít complain.
And you can move, as you decide,
Straight up the lane.

Youíre free to drink and eat a lot,
Itís rather pleasant in this rut.

Iíve understood - itís not bad luck -
Iím not alone. Thereís others stuck.
I only have to keep the pace!
And all will end up in one place.

Then, suddenly, somebody cried:
ďHey, let me pass!Ē
He fought the rut and lost the fight,
Oh, what an ass.

And in this clash, he quickly burned
His soulís reserve,
And bearings burst at every turn
And hit the earth.

He warped the edges in that spot,
And stretched the boundaries of the rut.

He fought because of foolish pride,
And now, the clownís on the side,
Stuck in the ditch, he canít impede
The rest of us who kept our speed.

But very soon, my turn had come -
My engineís dead.
This isnít racing, Iíve succumbed,
I inch ahead.

I should just push it to the end,
But no, canít do, -
Perhaps, behind me, thereís a friend
Whoíll pull me through...

Iím waiting in this rut in vain,
I should have picked a different lane.

How I despise this very rut,
Iíd like to spit with clay and mud, -
But the deeper I dig in the slime,
The less hope for the rest down the line.

Then, I broke out in a sweat. -
The engine roared!
I inched a little bit ahead
Along a board.

Ahead, the vernal streams have cleared
My way. I gasped.
The ending of the rut appeared -
Iím safe, at last!

My tires spin and spit out grime,
Back at the rut that I survived.

You, back there! Just do as I do -
To be clear - do not drive after me.
This rut is for me, not for you!
Find your own rut to take to break free!

Translation, Andrey Kneller.





AN ALIEN RUT

Mine is the fault. With a heavy heart
I sigh away:
Got tightly stuck in this deep rut
That someone made.

Of my own choice the targets are,
Which I have set,
And here I am, and off the rut
I cannot get.

The sheer walls that rim the rut
Are slippery and greasy mud.

Cursed be those whoíve worn down this rut!
This is going to fill up the cup.
Iím declining, like learning by heart:
To a rut, in a rut, with a rut.

But why am I as if on thorns?
Impertinent.
Conditions here, all in all,
Are competent.

No one will bump, nor push aside
You cannot carp.
And fancy you a headlong drive,
Then here you are!

Thereís no denial in chow and sup
In this convenient, cozy rut.

Apprehensively, I figure out:
I am not all alone in this rut.
Carry on, chum, a wheel in a wheel!
And youíll get right where all ever will.

Now, someone yields a frenzied shout:
Come, let me go!
And starts to struggle with the rut
An idiot,

He has depleted, in this row,
The stock of love,
With bearing brasses busting up
As well as valves.

And yet he warps the rims of rut,
The walls are, now, some more apart.

But his driveway abruptly cuts short.
And the chapís being dragged to a moat.
So he couldnít impede us, behind,
Driving headway along the alient rut.

And now I am as well in trouble
Ignition stuck.
This certain is no more a drive,
Just fidgeting.

One would get out to push it on,
But I lack snap.
Should someone bustle to move up close
To pull me out.

I seek a helping hand in vain:
This bitch of a rut is alien.

How I wish I could spit clay and rust
Quits with this very alien rut!
Cause by having thus deepened the trail
Iíve bereft those behind of a break.

Iím getting cold from chilly sweat
Up to the bones,
And then I walk a bit ahead
Along a board.

And here it is, a rimís washed out
By spring thaw streams -
Here is an exit off the rut,
Deliverance!

I spit with mud from under tires
Upon this someone elseís rut:

Hey you, going behind, act like me!
Thatís, donít follow the driveway Iím on.
This new rut belongs only to me.
You, get out by the ruts of your own!

Translation, Vyacheslav Chetin.


http://www.wysotsky.com/
 
Old January 8th, 2016 #10
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Владимир Высоцкий




Он не вернулся из боя / He didnít come back from the battle









HE DIDN'T COME BACK FROM THE BATTLE

Now the world seems so strange, though it looks just the same:
Skies are blue as the iris petal,
Just the same are the forest, the river, the flame,
But he didnít come back from the battle.

I donít see who was right in the disputes we had,
I cannot understand who was better...
Yet I started to miss him as soon as this lad
Failed to come back alive from the battle.

With his gibberish talk he would wake me at dawn,
He would not let me sleep with his prattle;
His remarks would be wrong, he would slip in a song,
But he yesterday fell in the battle.

Itís not loneliness that Iím talking about;
We were two - and no one can reset it...
By the wind my campfire at once was put out
When he didnít return from the battle.

To the troubles we have, our dead will respond,
Theyíll protect our values and treasures,
Skies reflect in the forest as if in the pond
And the trees look as if painted azure.

Spring has just shaken off winterís shackles. And I
Simply called him, forgetting the matter:
ďBuddy, leave me a drag!Ē - but there is no reply,
He would never come back from the battle.

In the dug-out we had I would share with him
Time and space and a battered old kettle...
Now I own them alone. But I really seem
To have fallen myself in the battle.

Translation, George Tokarev.
Edited by Robert Titterton





HE DIDN'T RETURN FROM THE BATTLE

Itís a beautiful day... Why is everything wrong?
And it feels like it will not get better.
Same forest, same river, same air on my tongue,
But he did not return from the battle!

Now it doesnít matter, which one of us won
Our arguments, quarrels, and prattles.
Only now do I miss him, now when he is gone,
When he did not return from the battle.

He was awkward at times? He sang out of tune,
Like an empty can, he always rattled,
Always kept me awake, always got up at dawn,
But last night didnít return from the battle.

Itís a trivial thing: only now I begin
Realizing just how much he mattered!
Like a fire blown out by the rush of the wind,
He did not return from the battle.

As if out of prison spring finally broke...
I called out, when the company settled:
ďBrother, pass me a smoke!Ē - But in silence I spoke...
He did not return from the battle!

Our fallen comrades - they always protect!
Our dead - stand sentinel for us!
Trees stand blooming in blue as the skies reflect,
As the skies reflect in the forest.

We would share our space and our life, everything:
Time for two and two spoons by the kettle.
Now itís all to myself, still I canít help but think:
I did not return from the battle!

Translation, Vadim Astrakhan.





HE WAS SHOT DOWN IN FIGHTING

Allís gone wrong, although nothing has changed here of late.
Air and water, the sky and the lighting -
They are all Just like always, except for my mate:
He was shot down in yesterdayís fighting.

I will now never know who was wrong, who was right
In our arguments that went on nightly.
Sad but true: I first missed him like hell this past night,
After he was shot down in the fighting.

He could never talk sense, never sang the right song,
He iust smiled when I said something biting.
He would not let me sleep, he got up with the sun
And was shot down in yesterdayís fighting.

I felt empty. It struck me: weíd both knocked about
In all kinds of times - dull and exciting.
It felt much like a fire had been blown out
When they downed him in yesterdayís fighting.

Spring is here, at long last, royal blue is the sky.
I called out, without thinking, most likely:
"Buddy, leave me the butt!" Thereís no sound in reply.
He was shot down in yesterdayís fighting.

In an hour of trial, our dead will stand by us -
Our dead, theyíll be ever our sentries.
In the woods, as in water, are mirrored the skies,
All around, tinted blue, quietly stand trees.

There was plenty of room for us in the dugout,
Even time flew for both of us lightly...
Iím alone now, and I am beginning to doubt:
Wasnít I downed in yesterdayís fighting?

Translation, Sergei Roy.

http://www.wysotsky.com/
 
Old January 10th, 2016 #11
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"Romance of Teodoro" - song from the movie "A dog in the manger" - 1977.

(A movie based on the eponymous comedy by Fťlix Lope de Vega y Carpio (1562-1635) a Spanish playwright, poet and novelist.)



Sings: actor Mikhail Boyarskiy / Михаил Боярский
Composer: Gennady Gladkov / Геннадий Гладков
Lyrics: Michael Donskoy / Михаил Донской










Steel dutifully obeys
When it flattens hammer.
Its from flame hearth
Is thrown in the freezing cold.
And in this torture
And in this torture,
And in this repeated torture -
Born Damask blade.

So my heart is tortured,
Its is ignited a tender gaze,
But if my heart will inflame,
Its is cooled coldness haughtily.
Shall I be burned? Shall I be burned?
Shall I be burned in the furnace of passion?
Or will the difficulties steeled me?

Translation, Alex Him.
 
Old January 23rd, 2016 #12
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Наутилус Помпилиус



"Nautilus Pompilius (Russian: Наутилус Помпилиус), sometimes nicknamed Nau (Russian: Нау), was a prominent Soviet/Russian rock band formed by the lead singer Vyacheslav Butusov and bassist Dmitry Umetsky while the two studied in Sverdlovsk (now Ekaterinburg) Institute of Architecture (now called Urals Academy of Architecture). The band, with its various incarnations, was active between the years 1983 and 1997. Nautilus were an influential band in the post-punk, new wave wing of Russian rock music and also a landmark of the "Ural rock" style with their philosophical lyrics. Some of their early hits are popularly associated with the Perestroika period.
Since the group disbanded, Vyacheslav Butusov has launched a successful solo career."

Text by Wikipedia.





"На берегу безымянной реки" из альбома "Чужая земля" (1992) / "On the shore of an unnamed river" from album "Foreign Land" (1992)









"Тутанхамон" из альбома "Титаник" (1994) / "Tutankhamun" from album "Titanic" (1994)









"Крылья" из альбома "Крылья" (1995) / "Wings" from album "Wings" (1995)




 
Old January 24th, 2016 #13
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Ария



"Aria (Russian: Ария) is a Russian heavy metal band that was formed in 1985 in Moscow. Although it was not the first Soviet band to play heavy music, Aria was the first to break through to mainstream media and commercial success. According to several public polls, Aria ranks among top 10 most popular Russian rock bands. Most of Aria's lyrics have been written not by the band's members but by professional poets Margarita Pushkina and Alexander Yelin.

Till Lindemann & Richard Kruspe of Rammstein have covered an Aria song, "Shtil" (Штиль). In this cover version, the song's name is Germanized and spelled as "Schtiel"."

Text by Wikipedia.






"Отшельник" из альбома "Генератор зла" (1998) / "Hermit" from album "Generator of Evil" (1998)









"Осколок льда" из альбома "Химера" (2001) / "Shard of Ice" from album "Chimera" (2001)









"Там высоко" из альбома "Крещение огнём" (2003) / "There High Up" from album "Baptism by Fire" (2003)




 
Old February 3rd, 2016 #14
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Браво



"Bravo (Russian: Бра́во) is a rock and roll band founded in 1983 in Moscow, Russia by guitarist Evgeny Havtan. Drawing a heavy inspiration from 1950's western music, Bravo was a part of Soviet rock and roll revival of the 1980s.

The band was one of the most popular acts in Russia in the 1980s."

Text by Wikipedia.






"Этот город" из сингла "Ветер знает" (1995) и альбома "На перекрёстках весны" (1996) / "The City" from single "The Wind Knows..." (1995) and album "At the Crossroads of Spring" (1996)









"Стильный оранжевый галстук" из альбома "Московский бит" (1993) / "The stylish orange tie" from album "Moscow Beat" (1993)









"Верю я" с виниловой пластинки "Bravo" (1987) / "I believe" from vinyl record "Bravo" (1987)




 
Old February 6th, 2016 #15
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Мегаполис





Мегаполис / Megapolis


All the songs are taken from the album "Super-tango" (Супертанго) - 2010.




"Ангел" / "An angel"









"Супертанго" / "Super-tango"









"Один, одна" / "One man, one woman"




 
Old February 15th, 2016 #16
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Ляпис Трубецкой



"Lyapis Trubetskoy (Russian: Ляпис Трубецкой, Belarusian: Ляпіс Трубяцкі) was a Belarusian rock band.

The name is taken from a character from Ilf and Petrov's "Twelve Chairs", hack poet Nikifor Lyapis with pen name Trubetskoy."

Text by Wikipedia.





"Воины света" из альбома "Матрёшка" (2014) / "Warriors of Light" from album "Matrioshka" (2014)









"Капитал" из альбома "Капитал" (2007) / "Capital" from album "Capital" (2007)









"Африка" из альбома "Весёлые картинки" (2011) / "Africa" from album "Funny pictures" (2011)




 
Old February 21st, 2016 #17
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Смысловые Галлюцинации

"Smyslovye Gallyutsinatsii (Russian: Смысловы́е галлюцина́ции) is a Russian rock band which has won the Golden Gramophone award twice.

The name of the band may be translated as "meaningful hallucinations" or "semantic hallucinations." This is not a medical term; it was produced as a slip of the tongue and stuck. The band is also known under a much shorter name "Glyuki" (Глюки), a slang term, which means basically the same: glitches in your brain.

The band was formed in Sverdlovsk in 1989."

Text by Wikipedia.





"Всё будет волшебно" из сингла "Всё будет волшебно" (2012) / "Everything will be magical" from single "Everything will be magical" (2012)









"Демоны" из альбома "Сделано в темноте" (2011) / "The demons" from album "Made in the Darkness" (2011)









"Мысленный волк" из сингла "Мысленный волк" (2014) / "The mental image of the wolf" from single "The mental image of the wolf" (2014)




 
Old February 27th, 2016 #18
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Алла Пугачёва


"Alla Borisovna Pugacheva (Russian: Алла Борисовна Пугачёва; sometimes transcribed in English as Pugachova; born 15 April 1949), is а Soviet and Russian musical performer. Her career started in 1965 and continues to this day. For her "clear mezzosoprano and a full display of sincere emotions", she enjoys an iconic status across the former Soviet Union as the most successful Soviet performer in terms of record sales and popularity.

She became a Meritorious Artist of the Russian SFSR in 1980, People's Artist of the Russian SFSR in 1985 and People's Artist of the USSR in 1991. She represented Russia in the Eurovision Song Contest 1997."

Text by Wikipedia.





Миллион алых роз / One million scarlet roses

Video of 1983.







Золотая карусель / Golden merry-go-round

Video of December 1986.






Балет / A Ballet

Video of December 1985.


 
Old March 6th, 2016 #19
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Ленинград



"Leningrad (Russian: Ленинград) is a popular Russian rock band from Saint Petersburg (formerly Leningrad), led by Sergey "Shnur" Shnurov.

Composed of 14 members, the band was founded in the late 1990s. Leningrad soon became notorious for vulgar lyrics (including lots of Russian mat) and celebration of alcoholism, which were also the main reasons most radio stations initially avoided the band. This did not stop Leningrad's growing popularity, partly because of the rich brass sound. The band eventually made its way to radio and TV (filler noises covering the prohibited words).

As Shnurov said himself: "Our songs are just about the good sides of life, vodka and girls that is."

The band was so disliked by the then mayor of Moscow Yuriy Luzhkov, that he cancelled all of its attempted large-scale events in the city during his term in office. Leningrad's numerous performances in Moscow were therefore limited to privately owned night clubs and bars."

Text by Wikipedia.





Videos 16+





"Карасик" из сингла "Карасик" (2015) / "Сrucian" from single "Сrucian" (2015)









"Экспонат" из сингла "Экспонат" (2016) / "Exhibit" from single "Exhibit" (2016)









"ЗОЖ" [Здоровый Образ Жизни] из сингла "ЗОЖ" (2015) / "HLS" [Healthy LifeStyle] from single "HLS" (2015)




 
Old March 12th, 2016 #20
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Линда



"Linda (Russian: Линда) is a stage name for Svetlana Lvovna Geiman (Russian: Светлана Львовна Гейман; born 29 April 1977, Kentau, Kazakh SSR, USSR), a Russian singer. Her style incorporates trip hop, electronic and ethnic music."

Text by Wikipedia.





"Мало огня" из альбома "Песни тибетских лам" (1994) / "It's not enough fire" from album "Songs of Tibetan Lamas" (1994)









"Шоколад и слеза" из альбома "Зрение" (2001) / "Chocolate and a Tear" from album "Sight" (2001)









"Sкор-пионы" из альбома "Sкор-пионы" (2008) / "Scor-Pions" from album "Scor-Pions" (2008)




 
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