Анжелика Варум Художник
Автор музыки: Юрий Варум.
Автор слов: Кирилл Эдуардович Крастошевский
Мы повстречались на беду у заколоченной эстрады,
Больной сентябрьской прохлады ты видел лета красоту.
Ты рисовал ненастный день, меня с зонтом под алым клёном,
Осенним листопадным звоном летела золотая тень.
Ты в увяданье видел жизнь, а в знак природы повторенье,
И это яркое горенье благословляла твоя кисть,
Наш молчаливый диалог исчез, как исчезает счастье,
Ушел ты полем сквозь ненастье за горизонт земных забот.
[Припев]
Меня ты скоро позабудешь, художник, что рисует дождь,
Другому ангелу ты служишь, и за собой не позовёшь.
Меня ты скоро позабудешь, художник, что рисует дождь,
Другому ангелу ты служишь, и за собой не позовёшь.
Художник, что рисует дождь, художник, что рисует дождь.
А утром, распахнув окно, я увидала ту картину,
Клён, распрямив свободно спину, качался на ветру легко.
А на эстраде шёл концерт, и летней сказки музыканты
Сердечных слёз свои брильянты дарили тем, кого уж нет.
[Припев]
Меня ты скоро позабудешь, художник, что рисует дождь,
Другому ангелу ты служишь, и за собой не позовёшь.
Меня ты скоро позабудешь, художник, что рисует дождь,
Другому ангелу ты служишь, и за собой не позовёшь.
Художник, что рисует дождь,
[Припев]
эквиритмический вариант на английском
Angelica Warum An artist who is painting rain
We met each other long ago
When all my life was just beginning
I was a girl so fond of singing
You were a man, you were alone
Some time has passed, I left my home
Before you heard about my story
But you have nothing here to worry
I solve my problems on my own
You know I loved you since we’ve met
Yet no one noticed my deep feeling
My eyes were wet, my head was reeling
I was so easily upset
You glanced at me but saw no tears
Your mind was set on things beyond me.
How could you disregard my yearning,
How could you bring to life my fears?
Chorus:
Will you forget me to my sorrow
An artist who is painting rain,
Will I live up until tomorrow
With that heart-penetrating pain?
Will you forget me to my sorrow
An artist who is painting rain,
Will I live up until tomorrow
With that heart-penetrating pain?
An artist who is painting rain,
An artist who is painting rain …
You know I loved you since we’ve met
Yet no one noticed my deep feeling
My eyes were wet, my head was reeling
I was so easily upset
You glanced at me but saw no tears
Your mind was set on things beyond me.
How could you disregard my yearning,
How could you bring to life my fears?
Chorus:
Анжелика Варум Художник эквиритмический вариант
© Copyright: Рамиро Лебедев-Толмач, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117120104861
Свидетельство о публикации №117120104861
Рецензии
Mesmerising translation! I risk to suggest you my version:
Me met each other with regret
Behind the strongly closed fence.
In ill september cold defence
You saw the beauty which forget.
You saw some life into the fade
And in the dreams of nature - repeation,
And this bright burning sparkly mission
Blessed your pen, pen, which you made.
You draw the wet and badly day
And me, umbrella under marple
The auttumnal fall - leaves sprarkle
Gold shadow flayed in the sky.
Our shouted dialog disappeared
Like disappeares the happiness,
You went away from me with tenderness
To edge of Earth troubles.
You will forget me very soon, my
The painter who painted the rain.
You serve to another angel
And won't call with me you again.
The painter who painted the rain,
The painter who painted the rain.
In morning, going to balcony,
I saw the very strange picture:
The marple, very curious creature,
Trembled on wind to toss and fry.
And on the scene there was concert,
And eternal tale the musicants
Their heart tears sparkly diamonds
Gifted to their who went nowhere.
Thank you for attention.
Виктори Мердок 06.04.2018 18:14 • Заявить о нарушении
Me met each other with regret
Behind the strongly closed fence.
In ill september cold defence
You saw the beauty which forget.
You saw some life into the fade
And in the dreams of nature - repeation,
And this bright burning sparkly mission
Blessed your pen, pen, which you made.
You draw the wet and badly day
And me, umbrella under marple
The auttumnal fall - leaves sprarkle
Gold shadow flayed in the sky.
Our shouted dialog disappeared
Like disappeares the happiness,
You went away from me with tenderness
To edge of Earth troubles.
You will forget me very soon, my
The painter who painted the rain.
You serve to another angel
And won't call with me you again.
The painter who painted the rain,
The painter who painted the rain.
In morning, going to balcony,
I saw the very strange picture:
The marple, very curious creature,
Trembled on wind to toss and fry.
And on the scene there was concert,
And eternal tale the musicants
Their heart tears sparkly diamonds
Gifted to their who went nowhere.
Thank you for attention.
Виктори Мердок 06.04.2018 18:14 • Заявить о нарушении
Thank you,too.
"Trembled on wind to toss and fry"- there is a misprint. The correct variant is "to toss and fro" (туда - сюда). And the word "fry" is translated as ",жареный". The fry marple - it is very funny, isn't it?
Виктори Мердок 09.04.2018 16:20 Заявить о нарушении
"Trembled on wind to toss and fry"- there is a misprint. The correct variant is "to toss and fro" (туда - сюда). And the word "fry" is translated as ",жареный". The fry marple - it is very funny, isn't it?
Виктори Мердок 09.04.2018 16:20 Заявить о нарушении
На это произведение написаны 4 рецензии, здесь отображается последняя, остальные - в полном списке.