Черной and дерипаска

We have a dream, you win tonight
Take a chance, take a chance, God is on you side
We pray for you, you like a hurricane
You can win, you can win, you can win the game
Try the impossible, we want a miracle
There's a million fans around
Our dreams free, we want the victory
The hero's back in town

Ohh come on We, we can win the race
Ohh he, fights us face to face
Ohh see, we will win the game
Again, again, and again
Ohh come on We, we can win the race
Ohh we, we will take the chance...

Oh you playing games, playing
Games, hurting my soul
Seven days, seven nights, without control
Oh every day, every night I was alone
When you're not next to me
Should I listen to my heart, girl
Should I listen to my brain
When you tell me, you'll leave me,
And you give it up
Can't we still be friends?

Oh after your love is gone
I don't know where I belong
When you're not next to me, not next to me
I'm dying, crying baby
Oh, after your love is gone
Oh baby I'm so...

Ты над могилою сырой
В слезах, родимая, не стой,
Ведь, чувствуешь – тебя люблю,
Меня там нет и я не сплю:
Я – в чистом поле ветра бег,
Я – с неба серебристый снег,
Я – в нивах вставшая заря,
Я – теплый ливень сентября.
Когда проснешься поутру,
Я – стриж, затеявший игру,
Несясь сквозь яркие лучи.
Я – звезд мерцание в ночи.
Ты над землею не рыдай -
Не в ней, не в ней мой новый край.


Do not stand at my grave and weep


Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not...

Adieu! I no more desire
To be your page, your servant and your boy,
And I, indeed, won’t e’en try to aspire
To bring you pleasure for your sinful joy.
I let you go, o Muse; I burn our bonds.
Fly! Fly away and soar…
But you should know: of you I was so fond!
My heart bleeds in a pink smoke of your flight.

I sit through the long night
In the high tower,
And listen to the autumn rain
Outside my window.

There is no sound of human life,
Save now and then
A belated traveler hastening by.
Through the dark heaven,
A wild goose wings his lonely flight.
In the chill gloom
A cricket calls
The water drips mournfully
From the t'ung trees;
And the blossoms
Flutter sadly
To the rain-soaked earth.

Sadness broods
Over the world.
I fear to walk in my garden,
Lest I see
A...

What they are searching, what looking for?
Blind stars of wisdom - blind glance of open sore?

They want to hear your human pleads?
When every night you keep repeats
the words for mercy to the Lord,
and every single, branded word
pure despair floating through your throat?

Or they awaits when you smash up
with simple feelings filled cup?
When you breakdown, when you collapse
When you breath out «No more…enough!»

But no, you wrong.
They don’t intend.
They just the stars, they...

Безумен, раз мне сейчас так одиноко.
Я безумец, мне не унять грусть мою.
Я знал, ты чувствуешь то что захочешь,
И надолго тебя удержать не смогу

Горе... Так сердце бьется от горя...
Знать бы, в чем же себя я виню?
Жаль мне, тебя не удержишь любовью.
Безумен стараясь, безумен страдая,
Тем безумен, что так люблю

Жаль мне, тебя не удержишь любовью.
Безумен стараясь, безумен страдая,
Тем безумен, что так люблю


Crazy, Julio Iglesias

Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely
I'm...

The Sun is rising, lighting up the woods,
Proclaiming the power of the light,
The beehives, nests under the azure hood
Are chanting their ode of delight.
The Star is streaming all over the Earth
And all the World is rejoicing and exulting,
Under the Sun each day is a day of birth,
The planet is overfilled with joyous sounds.
‘Tis very spare: dawns, the skies, the air,
But what can be more powerful, indeed?
Our Mother Nature is benign and fair,
We are her children, that’s our main deed...

O winds! O winds! O ramblers of the worlds!
Ubiquitous and free, sometimes cruel,
You carry away feelings, thoughts, remembrances and words,
Both worthless and those of greatest price, like jewels.


June 25, 2012
Saratov

Оригинал.

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:

But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light'st flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.

Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy...