Tommy Beavitt (Vysotsky translation) - Lyricale | Текст песни

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• Tommy Beavitt (Vysotsky translation)
• Lyricale

Lyricale

The balmy, moss-hung branches overhear each word we say,
The shrill chirruping of birds makes me anxious.
From this wild enchanted forest we could make our getaway;
But to this prospect you seem blithely oblivious.

Let the cherry blossom crumble like old linen in a gale,
Let lilac leaves fall sullenly in the rain.
I will take you in my arms, far away from this tale,
To a palace where minstrels pipe their sweet refrain.

Your realm, by the sorcerer's thousand year spell,
Is protected against me until broken.
And you truly believe, no more beautiful place
Than your enchanted wood was ever bespoken.

Let leaves no longer glisten in soft new morning light,
Let moon and stars by our quarrel be occluded.
I will take you in my arms far away on this night
To a seaside town where no-one's deluded.

Which day of the week, which glorious hour
Will you crawl to me, cautiously, out of hiding?
I will take you in my arms then and I’ll carry you away
To a safe place where we're always confiding.

I will take you by force if my reasoning is spent
Didn't I always overdo it with this insanity?
I will take you in my arms, far away to a tent,
If you think that my palace lacks reality.
Yes, I'll take you in my arms, if you will, to a tent
If it's thought that a palace lacks credibility.

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