Текст и перевод песни Tommy Vercetti - Briäf a Misäuber (Liebe 1)

Briäf a Misäuber (Liebe 1)

Liebe Simon hiä isch Winter,
Schneestärnä adä Fänster,
Chauti Händ, toti Gsichter,
Ig ha a di müessä dänkä.
Ig weiss dr Frühelig isch bezoubernd,
Schmetterlingä, Änglä singä, äng umschlungä du und si, ohni Gwunder,
S'schiint es längt für immer.
Doch aues änderet, nüt blibbt,
Ds darf di nid erschreckä.
S'isch jedä Morgä öpper nöis,
Chasch sä immer nöi entdeckä.
D'Wäut schnuufet, du muesch mitgah.
Nume Puls versteit d'Liebi.
Philosophie wird nid grösser, aus dini Mam wenn si di wieget.
Si säge di Zitä si verbi und verstecke d'Truur i ihrnä Ougä.
Schribä d'Liebi isch da und widmä z'Buech arä Frou.
Gloub nid ar Illusion, du heigsch unändlech Müglechkeite.
Wüu chli chattä isch okei, eis ga trinkä, villech eh Nacht doch us füfhundert wird schnäu null wenns drum geit näb ihrä z'schlafä, drum geit mit ihre z'grännä, mit ihrä z'läbä, mit ihrä Chind z'ha.
Wenn si würklech guet schmöckt wirsch du aus i ihrä findä.
Liebi isch ke Supermarkt.
Du findsch kes Produkt nach Mass,
Mit Garantie für Wahnsinns-Sex, Harmonie und luuter Spass.
Liebi isch ke Wüsseschaft, Glück kennt kes Schlüssuloch.
Subjekt si bedütet irä Wäut vo Objekt läbä.
U plötzlech isch si ä Mönsch, Happy-End verbi,
Fium geit witer.
Us vergöttere wird Ihversucht, us interessant si wird strittä.
Doch das isch aues paradox, lah di nid la iritiere.
Isch eh Liebi womä nid trout würklech wärt z'kontrolliere?
U mängisch möchtschere iz Gsicht schlah.
Dr Hass chochet tief, nimms aus Zeiche wi fest du liebsch.
Wärs anders wärs dr glich.
Wär si anders wärsch nid hie.
Aso schnuff tief und küss sä.
Villech begrifsch de ei Sekunde, was Jesus scho immer gwüsst het.
Chunnsch du nach entsteit Ribig - mir si üs ds nümmä gwöhnt.
Wüu dr PC het ä Off-Chnopf, Fernseh flimeret so schön.
Aus isch müglech, aues iz.
Ganzi Wünsch ...
Klar hautet ke Beziehig länger aus zwöi drü Jahr bi au däm Shit.
Z'Läbä ä Bitch und du wirsch äuter, nüt stimmt wome dir verzeut het.
De wärs doch schön wenn si no hie wär und dir seit ds ihre Heud bisch.
Wüu Liebi isch viu schaffä, isch akzeptiere, isch entscheidä.
Was mit Geld nid chasch zahle isch bim stärbe nid allei si.
Wille isch romantisch ihres Schicksau.
Geduld meh Lideschaft aus Hass.
Und ig wott meh für si machä - schöner aus ig bi für si gmacht.
Und ig weiss mängisch luegsch i Spiegu, uf ds Schwarzä vor Pupiue.
Suechend nachmä Glas vou Wiuue, wüu üs dr Hauter nüm cha Hiuf gä.
Mir si hützutag nüm fähig, isch chli eh z'gmüetlechi Erklärig.
E Umarmig isch ou aues wenn e berüehmte Millionär bisch.
Und frag nid ob d'Müeh a Wärt isch.
Wenn ds wüsstisch wärsch du Gott.
Und de wärs ja ou ke Müeh - zudäm ds Gott se niemeh wott.
Und unuswichlech wirsch abhängig.
Doch gägäsitig isches gsund.
Geits um Freiheit vo Materiellem blib e Rebell...
Und di Stouz wird viu verletzt, dänksch ds Läbä wär behindert.
Wo doch z'Läbä nur dr Sinn het paar Behinderige z'finge.
Öpper wo ds umerennä linderet - mit dir Problem und mit dir Ching het.
Ufem Stärbäbett isch Karriere sicher nüt wod wosch erinnere.
U dr Winter chunnt bestimmt - bitte eifach nüt verwächsle.
Nid d'Tecki mitem Schnee, nid d'Heizig mitem Wätter.
Jede Kuss mau isch me wäg - ds au dä Überschwang vo hüt.
Ä autä Ma seit e Stei sig am Sisifus sis Glück.
Ig weiss nid viu, weiss villech nüt.
Ha ke Plan nume ds Gfüu ds, im Winter gsehsch klarer aus im Früehlig.
Bis gly.

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Letter to a Misfit (Love 1)

Dear Simon, it's winter here,
Snowflakes at the window,
Cold hands, dead faces,
I had to think of you.
I know spring is enchanting,
Butterflies, angels sing, you and she embraced, no wonder,
It seems to last forever.
But everything changes, nothing remains,
Don't let that frighten you.
Every morning someone new,
You can always rediscover them.
The world breathes, you have to go with it.
Only pulse understands love.
Philosophy doesn't get bigger than your mother when she rocks you.
They say times have changed and hide the sorrow in their eyes.
They write love is here and dedicate a book to a woman.
Don't believe in illusion, you have endless possibilities.
Wanting a little chat is okay, having a drink, maybe one night out of five hundred will quickly become zero if it doesn't involve sleeping next to her, crying with her, living with her, having children with her.
If she really tastes good you'll end up inside her.
Love is not a supermarket.
You won't find a tailor-made product,
With a guarantee for amazing sex, harmony and pure fun.
Love is not a science, happiness has no keyhole.
Being a subject means living in her world of objects.
And suddenly she is a human being, happy ending over,
Film continues.
Forgetting turns into trying, being interesting turns into fighting.
But it's all paradoxical, don't let it annoy you.
Is a love you don't trust really worth controlling?
And sometimes you want to slap her face.
The hatred boils deep, take it as a sign of how much you love.
If it were different it would be the same.
If she were different, you wouldn't be here.
So take a deep breath and kiss her.
Maybe you'll understand for a second what Jesus always knew.
You come after the rib is created - we're just not used to it anymore.
Because the PC has an off button, the TV flickers so beautifully.
So it's possible, this too.
Whole wishes ...
Of course, no relationship lasts longer than two to three years with all this shit.
Life's a bitch and you get older, nothing is true that you were told.
Then it would be nice if she was still here and told you she was your today.
Because love is a lot of work, is accepting, is deciding.
What you can't pay with money is not being alone when you die.
Willing is romantic to her fate.
Patience more passion than hate.
And I want to do more for her - more beautiful than I am made for her.
And I know sometimes you look in the mirror, at the blackness in front of the pupils.
Looking for a glass of wine because our skin can no longer help us.
We are no longer capable these days, it's a little too comfortable an explanation.
A hug is everything, even if you're a famous millionaire.
And don't ask if it's worth the effort.
If you knew, you'd be God.
And then it wouldn't be an effort - besides, God never wants to take it away.
And inevitably you become addicted.
But mutual is healthy.
When it comes to freedom from the material, remain a rebel...
And your pride is hurt a lot, you think life is handicapped.
When life only makes sense to find a few handicaps.
Someone who eases the going around - has problems with you and children with you.
On your deathbed, a career is certainly not what you want to remember.
And winter will surely come - just please don't confuse anything.
Not the blanket with the snow, not the heating with the weather.
Every kiss is one step further away - also today's exuberance.
An old man says a stone is Sisyphus' happiness.
I don't know much, probably nothing.
I have no plan, only the feeling that in winter you see more clearly than in spring.
See you soon.

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