Празни стаи (или най-добрите балади)
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| Не е на Друпи - друга йе! Lead guitar and background vocals by Sting. От Midnight ballads vol 2 - all rights reserved. Производител не пише. |
И сега, за лека нощ  Една от най-любимите, на съпруга ми и мен, френски балади /ние сме франкофони най-първом/, слава Богу, имахме късмет френският да ни е първият, овладян чужд език, колко хубаво е да можеш да споделиш това с любимия  Слава Богу, за нас това не завърши така, но можеше, но съдбата била добра.... Всичко друго /на друг език/ е вече не с такава тръпка, макар.... Ако един ден имам време, ще преведа този невероятен текст. Мелодията няма нужда....превъдходна.... За ценителите - Геновева, 99! И всички франкофони - те ще го пипнат, това настроение..... Michel Fugain Un beau roman (Une belle histoire) C'est un beau roman, c'est une belle histoire C'est une romance d'aujourd'hui Il rentrait chez lui, là -haut vers le brouillard Elle descendait dans le midi, le midi Ils se sont trouvé s au bord du chemin Sur l'autoroute des vacances C'é tait sans doute un jour de chance Ils avaient le ciel à porté e de main Un cadeau de la providence Alors pourquoi penser au lendemain Ils se sont caché s dans un grand champ de blé Se laissant porter par les courants Se sont raconté s leur vies qui commenç aient Ils n'é taient encore que des enfants, des enfants Qui s'é taient trouvé s au bord du chemin Sur l'autoroute des vacances C'é tait sans doute un jour de chance Qui cueillirent le ciel au creux de leurs mains Comme on cueille la providence Refusant de penser au lendemain C'est un beau roman, c'est une belle histoire C'est une romance d'aujourd'hui Il rentrait chez lui, là -haut vers le brouillard Elle descendait dans le midi, le midi Ils se sont quitté s au bord du matin Sur l'autoroute des vacances C'é tait fini le jour de chance Ils reprirent alors chacun leur chemin Saluè rent la providence en se faisant un signe de la main Il rentra chez lui, là -haut vers le brouillard Elle est descendue là -bas dans le midi C'est un beau roman, c'est une belle histoire C'est une romance d'aujourd'hui |
| Kingdom come What Love Can Be Come to me know I want to be your best friend for all of time I want to be the tissue for your tears I never want to be alone I never really thought that I could feel A feeling that awakened me so I was astray of knowing where I belong Living out of time, living out of time (chorus) Now that you’ve come and set me free Now that I know what love can be All that I want is you with me That’s all I want You allow me to be what I want to be Thanks for helping me I feel like a bright shining star For only you to see, for only you to see Hold me tight, hold me tight I won’t let you go Close to you, close to you Touch me, don’t let go Give me all your love Close to you, close to you Give me all your love All that I want Is you to be with me Музиката за щастие е много по-добра от текста. Но всъщност ние май се опитваме да припомним любими балади...  |
| И нещо, което също не бива да се забравя, от дуета, който отвори нови пространства - Саймън и Гарфънкъл The Sound Of Silence Written By Paul Simon Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again, Because a vision softly creeping, Left its seeds while I was sleeping, And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains Within the sound of silence. In restless dreams I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone, 'Neath the halo of a street lamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light That split the night And touched the sound of silence. And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more. People talking without speaking, People hearing without listening, People writing songs that voices never share And no one dare Disturb the sound of silence. "Fools" said I, "You do not know Silence like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach you, Take my arms that I might reach you." But my words like silent raindrops fell, And echoed In the wells of silence And the people bowed and prayed To the neon god they made. And the sign flashed out its warning, In the words that it was forming. And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls And tenement halls." And whisper'd in the sounds of silence. |
| Dr.Hook Sexy Eyes I was sitting all alone Watching people get it on With each other They were dancin cross the floor Turning, moving back and forth They were lovers One more lonely night for me I looked up, what did I see? Sexy eyes, movin cross the floor Got me wantin more, sexy eyes (sexy) Sexy eyes, gettin down with you I want to move with you, sexy eyes I got up and took your hand And we both began to dance to the music Ooh, your magic cast a spell It didn't take long till we fell And we knew it No more lonely nights for me This is how it's gonna be Sexy eyes, move across the floor Got me wantin more, sexy eyes (sexy) Sexy eyes, gettin down with you I wanna move with you, sexy eyes No more lonely nights for me This is how it's gonna be Sexy eyes, movin cross the floor Got me wantin more, sexy eyes (sexy) Sexy eyes, gettin down with you I wanna move with you, sexy eyes Sexy eyes, gettin down with you I wanna move with you, sexy eyes Sexy eyes, gettin down with you I wanna move with you, sexy eyes  |
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| Еййй, как ми напомни, бях обещала да извадя две-три песнопойки, дето си бях купила от бай Михал, от Женския пазар, на високото столче под големия черен чадър. Също съм го срещала и като гастрольор в Банки, обкръжен от пъстра тълпа курортистки (както пишеше един мой познат от там в картичките до къщи - Поздрав от курорта на шамиите и потурите) А баладите бяха от типа - Какво е чудо станало, в това ми село Койнаре. и т.н. и т.н. Дали ще ми приемат приноса в тази тема? Все пак, що па да не са балади? |
| Обаче виж с кого ще се конкурираш: "Тук е мястото да се каже, че приживе П. Р. Славейков няма издадена цялостна стихосбирка. През годините се появяват отделни книжки с негови стихотворения, обединени тематично. Такива са любовните му произведения: „Песнопойка или различни песни, сатири и гатанки на български език за увеселение на младите“, 1852; „Веселушка за развеселяване на младите“, 1854; „Нова песнопойка. Избрана от ветата и от Веселушката с приложение на много още други нови песни и сатири и от най-употребителните турски песни“, 1857; „Залъгалка или любовно разговорниче, издадено за разтуха на младите“, 1862; „Славейче или събрание на различни песни български и турски за разтуха на младите“, 1864, и „Песнопойка или събрание на разни песни български и турски“, 1870." Редактирано от - Simplified Solutions на 26/4/2005 г/ 16:13:05 |
| Айде и малко "Балкан рок" - един от истинските балкански бисери на този жанр - Бора Джорджевич и "Рибля чорба": Ne Veruj Zeni Koja Pusi Drinu Bez Filtera (ostavi Je) Ne veruj zeni koja pusi drinu bez filtera u torbi nosi puno raznobojnih pilula i traume iz detinjstva, 24 sata dnevno mrzi citav svet. Ne veruj zeni sa izgrizenim noktima cekaces je ispred ordinacija, u cekaonicama je zabranjeno pusenje, ona je dozivotno na bolovanju. Ne veruj zeni koja mrzi taksiste i konobare i nemoj da je tesis dok place, to je svakodnevno, normalna pojava i ti joj ne mozes pomoci. Ne veruj zeni koja ne skida sminku pre spavanja, bezi koliko te noge nose, bezi glavom bez obzira, bezi i ne okreci se sine. Ostavi je najboljim prijateljima, ostavi je medicinskim sestrama i umornim borcima. Ostavi je trgovackim putnicima, ostavi je vojnicima na odsustvu i srednjoskolcima.  |
| Ние от таз конкуренция не се плашим, пък кой ли ги и пее тия песни на дяда Славейков сега? А онез песнопойки бяха за живи песни, дори майка ми ги проверяваше и се възмущаваше, като намираше грешчици в текста. Че тази тема си е една песнопойка по същество.  Довечера съм на купоня форумен, надали ще намеря време да се включа, но ще търся в чекмедженцето с реликвите, от утре, обещавам. |
| ЗАЯВКА -> Sebastian - Cockney rebels; Dr. Hook -> Sylvia's mother .... Crossby, Stills, Nash & Young ->Guinnevere + Love the one you're with И ако не се сетите - ще ви пусна по-късно малко CCR |
| Според мен, една от най-добрите български балади: И утре е ден Михаил Белчев И утре е ден Пак говорим с теб по телефона. Тази нощ за мен той е икона. Този път ще чуеш истини, скрити в първата ми изповед. Още ли обичаш бяла роза? Можеш ли в снега да тичаш боса? Още ли сънуваш мен и теб във някой град с гълъби и със зелен площад? Но сънен глас отегчен идва чужд и далечен. И уморен казвам : "Лека нощ!" И утре е ден. Още ли обичаш бяла роза? Можеш ли в снега да тичаш боса? Още ли сънуваш мен и теб във някой град с гълъби и със зелен площад? Но глух сигнал отдалеч идва чужд и безплътен. И уморен казвам: "Лека нощ!" И утре е ден. |
| Някой искаше това --------------- Games People Play Lyrics: Joe South Music: Joe South Oh the games people play now Every night and every day now Never meaning what they say now And never saying what they mean And they while away the hours In their ivory towers 'Till they're covered up with flowers In the back of a black limousine Though we make one another cry Break our hearts when we say goodbye Cross our hearts and we'll hope to die Said the other was to blame Neither one will ever give in Though we gaze on an eight by ten Thinking 'bout the things that might have been And it's a dirty rotten shame Talking about you and me And the games people play People walking up to you Singing glory hallelujah And they're trying to sock it to you In the name of the Lord Gonna teach you how to meditate Read your horoscope and cheat your fate And furthermore to hell with hate Come on get on board Look around tell me what you see What's happening to you and me God grant me the serenity To remember who I am 'Cause you've given up your sanity All your pride and your vanity Turn your back on humanity And you don't give a damn Talking about you and me And the games people play |
| Е, с'а...и малко пе'еращини: WALK ON THE WILD SIDE Лу Рийд Holly came from miami f.l.a. Hitch-hiked her way across the u.s.a. Plucked her eyebrows on the way Shaved her leg and then he was a she She says, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side Said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side Candy came from out on the island In the backroom she was everybody’s darling But she never lost her head Even when she was given head She says, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side Said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side And the coloured girls go Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo) Little joe never once gave it away Everybody had to pay and pay A hustle here and a hustle there New york city is the place where they said Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side I said hey joe, take a walk on the wild side Sugar plum fairy came and hit the streets Lookin’ for soul food and a place to eat Went to the apollo You should have seen him go go go They said, hey sugar, take a walk on the wild side I said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side All right, huh Jackie is just speeding away Thought she was james dean for a day Then I guess she had to crash Valium would have helped that dash She said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side I said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side And the coloured girls say Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo) |
| Социалните балади на Рей Дейвис и "Кинкс" са все още един от най-ярките документи за живота в Лондон през 60те: The Kinks Dead End Street There's a crack up in the ceiling, And the kitchen sink is leaking. Out of work and got no money, A Sunday joint of bread and honey. What are we living for? Two-roomed apartment on the second floor. No money coming in, The rent collector's knocking, trying to get in. We are strictly second class, We don't understand, (Dead end!) Why we should be on dead end street. (Dead end!) People are living on dead end street. (Dead end!) Gonna die on dead end street. Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) On a cold and frosty morning, Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning. And my feet are nearly frozen, Boil the tea and put some toast on. What are we living for? Two-roomed apartment on the second floor. No chance to emigrate, I'm deep in debt and now it's much too late. We both want to work so hard, We can't get the chance, (Dead end!) People live on dead end street. (Dead end!) People are dying on dead end street. (Dead end!) Gonna die on dead end street. Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) (Dead end!) People live on dead end street. (Dead end!) People are dying on dead end street. (Dead end!) Gonna die on dead end street. Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) Head to my feet (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) How's it feel? (yeah) How's it feel? (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) |
| Грацко, пропуснал си 2 реда: (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo) |
| Ето и едно лирично отклонение от "Апостроф" на Zappa UNCLE REMUS Whoa, are we moving too slow? Have you seen us, ? We look pretty sharp in these clothes *(Yes, we do)* Unless we get sprayed with a hose It ain't mad in the day If they squirt it your way 'Cept in the wintah, when it's froze And it's hard if it hits, on your nose *(On your nose)* Just keep your nose To the grindstone they say Will that redeem us, Uncle Reemus? I can't wait til mah 'fro is full grown I'll just through in my doo-rag at home I'll take a drive to Beverly Hills Just before dawn And knock the little jockeys Off the rich peoples lawn And before they get up I'll be gone *(I'll be gone)* Before they get up I'll be knockin' the jockeys off the lawn *(Down in the dew)* |