Paroles et traduction Myslovitz - Art Brut (Radio Edit)

Art Brut (Radio Edit)

To do ludzi jest krzyk,
Delikatny tak.
To wolanie bez solw,
Chcesz uslyszec – patrz.
Radosc tworzy te mysl,
Rzezbi tak jak chce.
Zwalcza lek,
Granic mniej.

Wykluczony bez wad
Ktore mozna miec
Zachwyt dziecka to stan
Dla nich wiem, to sen
Tak bardzo inny,
A pewnie ten sam,
To moze jest tlem,
Jest gdzies tam.

Ktory z nich to jest,
Ten prawdziwy swiat.
Moj, Twoj, jej, albo wasz
Pewnie ich
Jego tez
Wiec chyba nasz.

I naiwni jak nikt
Zaden dZwiek czy szept
No i szczery ten gest,
Spontaniczny tez.
Jakby na przekor tym
Doskonale pieknym, znam
Tym, co sa,
Co w alejach gwiazd.

Ktory z nich to jest,
Ten prawdziwy swiat
Moj, Twoj, jej, wasz
Ich,
Jego tez,
Wiec chyba nasz.

Ktory z nich
To jest ten
Trafny punkt
Widac zal.
Jeszcze cos
Oprocz nas
Z obu stron
Dzieje sie.

Kolorowy z drewna, ludzi tlum
Malych kobiet, panow stu
Muchomorow, sanek liczb
Przytulaja sie, to nic.
Kalendarze, cyfry, pelno dat
Autoportret, siedem pan,
W okularach siwych dam
Dziwnych zwierzat, mnogosc klat
Pod sukniami patrza na
Swietosc, aniol, byki, twarz
Oryginalna wiecznosc ma
Przytulaja sie, przytulaja sie, przytulaja sie.

Art Brut (Radio Edit)

There is a cry of these people,
So delicate.
This is a call without words,
If you want to hear it – look.
Joy creates this thought,
Sculpting as it wants.
Fighting fear,
Fewer boundaries.

Excluded without flaws
That can be had
The ecstasy of a child is a state
For them I know, it's a dream
So very different,
And probably the same,
This maybe is the background,
It's somewhere there.

Which of them is this,
This real world.
Mine, yours, hers, or yours
Probably theirs
His too
So probably ours.

And naive like no one else
No sound or whisper
And so sincere this gesture,
Also spontaneous.
As if in spite of this
Perfectly beautiful, I know
Those that are,
What is in the alleys of stars.

Which of them is this,
This real world
Mine, yours, hers, your
Theirs,
His too,
So probably ours.

Which of them
Is this
The right point
You can see regret.
Something else
Besides us
On both sides
Is happening.

Colored wooden figures of a crowd of people
Small women, hundreds of men
Toadstools, sledges, numbers
They hug each other, it's nothing.
Calendars, numbers, full of dates
Self-portrait, seven women,
Grey-haired ladies in glasses
Strange animals, many frames
Under dresses looking at
Holiness, an angel, bulls, a face
Original eternity has
They hug each other, they hug each other, they hug each other.