Beloy akatsii grozd’ya dushistye (Белой акации гроздья душистые) (tłumaczenie na angielski)

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Beloy akatsii grozd’ya dushistye (Белой акации гроздья душистые)

Целую ночь соловей нам насвистывал,
Город молчал и молчали дома.
Белой акации гроздья душистые
Ночь напролет нас сводили с ума.
Белой акации гроздья душистые
Ночь напролет нас сводили с ума.
 
Сад весь умыт был весенними ливнями,
В темных оврагах стояла вода.
Боже, какими мы были наивными,
Как же мы молоды были тогда!
 
Годы промчатся седыми нас делая,
Листья срывая с акаций пустых
Только зима да метелица белая
Может быть, снова напомнит о них.
 
В час когда ветер бушует неистовый,
В час, когда в окнах не видно ни зги,
Белой акации гроздья душистые
Ты мне хоть вспомнить на миг помоги.
 
Udostępniono przez alikissaalikissa dnia śr., 02/06/2010 - 01:46
tłumaczenie na angielskiangielski
Wyrówna akapity
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White Acacia(Fragrant Bunches of White Acadia)

Wersje: #1#2
All night along, there were nightingale singing,
The town was silent, and silent were homes,
All night along, white acacia blossoms
Made us obsessed with its sweet fragrant foam.
 
The garden'd been washed up by rain of the springtime,
The water that stayed in the ditches, was dark.
My godness, what a naive we were back then,
So young, so fresh, like trees in that park.
 
The years had gone, making us gray and withered,
Where is the purity of those blooming branches?
Only the snow, and white storms of winter,
Us to remind of that sweet avalanche.
 
Now, when is windy, and the storm goes fiercely,
I feel with a new force while breaking in tears,
Bunches of sweetness, and the fragrant acacia,
Never are back, like my green early years,
 
The blossoms of fragrant and pure acacia,
Were as unique as my young tender years.
 
Udostępniono przez alikissaalikissa dnia śr., 02/06/2010 - 01:52
Komentarz autora:

All night along there were nightingale singing,
The town was silent, and silent were homes,
All night along, white acacia blossoms
Made us obsessed with its sweet fragrant foam.

The garden'd been washed up by rain of the springtime,
The water that stayed in the ditches, was dark.
My godness, what a naive we were back then,
So young, so fresh, like trees in that park.

The years had gone, making us gray and withered,
Where is the purity of those blooming branches?
Only the snow and white storms of winter,
Us to remind of that sweet avalanche.

Now, when is windy, and the storm goes fiercely,
I feel with a new force while breaking in tears,
Bunches of sweetness, and the fragrant acacia,
Never are back, like my green early years,

The blossoms of fragrant and pure acacia,
Were as unique as my young tender years.

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GuestGuest    czw., 18/04/2013 - 08:02

The original lyrics has been changed. You might want to update your translation.