BAP - Novembermorje - перевод текста песни на английский

Текст и перевод песни BAP - Novembermorje




Novembermorje
November Seas
Samt un Chinaseid drähte, zeich sing Facette,
Velvet and Chinese silk, paint your facets,
Stolz wie ne Pfau,
Proud as a peacock,
Danz durch Kaleidoskope, Derwische tobe,
Dance through kaleidoscopes, whirling dervishes,
Spatze sinn grau.
Sparrows are gray.
Novembermorje, Ruut ess Bloot,
November seas, red is blood,
Ruut ess Liebe, Ruut ess duut.
Red is love, red is death.
Färve explodiere, Stääne routiere
Colors explode, stars rotate
Em naachblaue Meer.
In the midnight blue sea.
Magier, Karavane, Gaukler, Schamane,
Magicians, caravans, jesters, shamans,
Silverpapier.
Silver foil.
Novemberkalt, Novemberleer,
November cold, November empty,
Wiesu jraad jetz? Wiesu jraad der?
Why now? Why you?
Dausenduneine Morje, zo huh jefloore,
A thousand and one nights, flown so high,
Zo noh ahn der Sonn.
So close to the sun.
Purpur, Joldlammee-Fahne, Schereschnett-Palme,
Purple, golden lamb flags, paper-cut palms,
Märchebooch-Mohnd.
Fairy tale moon.
Novembermorje, eezte Schnie.
November seas, the first snow.
Nachspann läuf, er laach nit mieh.
The credits roll, he doesn't laugh anymore.
En Fedderboa, Henna, Wachs un Wüstensand
A feather boa, henna, wax and desert sand
Un Safran für ne Prinz uss Samarkant.
And saffron for a prince from Samarkand.
Rosa-Orange, woröm nit? Kei Problem,
Pink and orange, why not? No problem,
Em Räänboore ess jede Färv jenehm.
There's a place for every color in the rainbow.
Er woor Muezzin der Phantasie,
He was the muezzin of fantasy,
Der Anarchie, ahn Kette looch e nie.
Of anarchy, never chained.
Ich sinn en noch, wie e mem Bowie " Helde " singk,
I remember him well, singing "Heroes" with Bowie,
En blaue Musik-Box un e Glas met ruudem Wing,
A blue music box and a glass of red wine,
E Polaroid en nem Cafe en Taroudannt
A Polaroid in a cafe in Taroudannt
Un eins em Ohvendleech, er janz allein ahm Strand,
And one in the evening light, him all alone on the beach,
Marrakech-Express, die rostige Kaar
The Marrakech Express, that rusty car
Un noch eins, Ärm en Ärm, met singem Abdallah.
And one more, arm in arm with his Abdallah.
Er jing vun uns un trotzdämm blieht er he,
He's gone from us and yet he remains,
Denn jed klei Bild vun ihm ess e Stöck vun singer Seel.
For each small picture of him is a piece of his soul.
Novembermorje, et fällt eezte Schnie,
November seas, the first snow falls,
En graue Stadt weed wach, Zaubrer laach nie mieh.
A gray city awakens, the magician doesn't laugh anymore.





Авторы: Wolfgang Niedecken, Klaus Heuser


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