Резултати претраге страна 18

Beyond the Kuban/ Oh Haystacks, Haystacks

Beyond the Kuban:
 
Beyond the Kuban, the fires burn,
But the smoke is in Kazanskaya
Our cossacks set off
Their banners are barely seen
 
They are riding, all weeping
They keep glancing back
Our wives remain,
Wives so young
 
Our wives remain behind,
Wives so new
Our wives so tender,
With little ones
 
Neigh, neigh, neigh my dear horse,
Telling me in a little voice
So that my mother could hear,
While sitting by the house
 
Beyond the Kuban, the fires burn,
But the smoke is in Kazanskaya
Our cossacks set off
Their banners are barely seen,
 
Our cossacks set off
Their banners are barely seen, Ai!
 
Oh Haystacks, Haystacks:
 
Oh haystacks, haystacks, upon a wide meadow.
You can't be counted, can't be seen with the eyes.
 
Oh haystacks, haystacks, on a green marsh
Standing on watch, what are you safekeeping?
 
'Good man, we once were flowers.
We were slashed with sharp scythes.
 
They scattered us in the middle of a meadow.
They separated us far apart from one another
 
There is no defense for us from virulent guests.
In our eyes, there are black crows.
 
In our eyes, eclipsing the stars
Jackdaws flock to weave slipshod nests
 
Oh eagle, eagle our distant father
Come down to us, fearsome and bright-eyed one.
 
Oh eagle, eagle, hear our lamentations.
Do not let the crows disgrace our lot
 
Punish their arrogance straight away.
Strike them from the heavens so that their feathers fly.
 
So that they are strewn about, so that upon the wide steppe
The wind disperses them far, far away.'
 

Cherry Blossoms

Versions: #2
At that time, we were always looking vacantly up the sky on the roof of an office building
We slipped out from the workplace together, covered with sweat and dust, and taiked about fantasy stories.
We heardthe rattle of Chuo-line train over an elevated bridge, like a toy
 
Hey, We were so subborn, but after all, did we really make right choices?
We believed we weren't weong at all, and we would make it someday
We often bite our lips hard, and suffer at night
However, our wordless scream in that darkness, like a wailing, was
stamped on Senkawa street, like the corpse of a crow. the pain, the pain
 
Are you kidding? Never make it end here. Don't call our jouney such an ordinary word, like 'youth', and see it past!
I'll never forget the tears of vexitation gushed from our eyes, when we heard the sound of footsteps leaving us
While we pick up abandoned fliers, we realized spring had come
We smiled grimly, watchng the falling
 
cherry blossoms
 
I used to hate the big tree in front of the windows, since it blocks the sunlight from my loom
Untill the spring came and the tree's flowers bloomed, I hated the tree
This episode now seems like a trivial thing, but I still regret a little
Maybe it was relly meaningless story. Sorry.
 
I've been thinking why I feel so sad whenever I see the sunset around the rotary in front of the station
It's sad because it's an end? or becauseit's a beginning? The street rights start to go on gradually
That is to say, an end is equal to a beggining. If that's the case, these tears are unneccesary. so get lost at once!
My chest hurt, hurt
 
The spring wind strayed into the room where I'm living alone. The curtain we chose together is swinging.
Why didn't you carry out this void feeling from me when you carried out your baggage from this room?
I tried to behave as if nothing had happened. On the washed clothes you dried in the sun at the last day,
I found sticked
 
Cherry blossoms
 
The persons we part with and the persons we met anew. Basically, a story have a begging and an end.
If that's the case, The sorrows I experienced in my story are the rules I have to obey when I live my life
While I pick up the tears I had abandoned, I realized the spring had come
I keep on singing, singing, singing,
 
Oh cherry blossoms, cherry brossoms, It has not
Cherry brossoms bloom, faded yet
Oh cherry blossoms, cherry brossoms, our stories
where cherry brossoms bloom someday
 

amazarashi - Flowers Will Bloom Atop Someone's Corpse 花は誰かの死体に咲く

Versions: #2
The roadside trees are seeped in scarlet and feigned ignorance, while I stand beneath a frigid sky with a feeling of betrayal.
 
The world is full of awful news, but if I plug my ears, I won't be able to hear the departure bell. Lord mercy on me.
 
A mother stands stupefied on the desolate Asahi street, as bomber planes fly over the peaceful coastal waters.
 
Life and fantasy are but a mere shadow of popular culture and escapism.
 
It's been about seven million years since the dawn of humanity. And if the corpses of all those who have died to this ay are buried in the ground, then the whole world, even the town where you live, is all somebody's grave.
 
And though that might sound pretty morbid, I take solace in that fact.
 
Even these high-rise buildings and apartments are like tombstones.
 
Can you take apart my melancholy, misery, and memories?
 
Though they might not be beautiful, tiny flowers have bloomed.
 
They legitimize your pathetic existence: living without a choice, not even given a name.
 
Discarded, rotten garbage. Those who died with their regrets unresolved.
 
Even dreams of strangers which could never come true.
 
They'll all return to the earth, leaving nothing behind, and flowers will bloom atop someone's corpse.
 
The city tries to keep the night away, so beneath the starry sky, we've made so much commotion that it's sparked a wildfire: Glittering skylines. Illuminated billboards.
 
At long last, the city has triumphed over lonesomeness.
 
And yet, compared to wandering alone through the countryside at night, why the hell does this thriving city feel so lonely?
 
It must be the way I compare myself to others. All my happiness has been relative.
 
Though they might not be beautifu, when my worn-down friends smile, it legitimizes all my failures: there's neither shame nor honor on a path I didn't choose.
 
The person you once held so tight. The scorn in the headwinds.
 
Even your victories, which were never once appreciated.
 
They'll all return to the earth, leaving nothing behind, and flowers will bloom atop someone's corpse.
 
Even if makind started anew on our former battlefields, even if we brought flowers to the sites of disastrous tragedies, even if trees continue to take root in the tows we've abandoned, even if insects should swarm on the offrings to our forefathers, we're living in vain. Just go ahead and laugh!
 
Farewells are over in an instant. Just go ahead and sing!
 
At dusk, when we hold onto our withering lives and weep, offer a eulogy to life upon this trodden earth.
 
Though it might not be beautiful, if life still smiles upon us today, it will legitimize the hubris of mankind: Live as though we could escape this fate!
 
The days when were able to smile together.
 
The suffering on days when we faced loss.
 
Even our lives, which seem like they could be snuffed out without warning.
 
They'll all return to the earth, leaving nothing behind, and flowers will bloom atop someone's corpse.
 

amazarashi - Beginning at the End 終わりで始まり

Versions: #2
The night sky that I always looked up at on my way back home, somehow it seems different from back then.
 
Ah, that's right. I got a little too accustomed to normality.
 
No, that's not it either.
 
It's that, even now, every day doens't make me smile that much.
 
Even my friends from back in the day stopped goofing around.
 
Yep, that's right. They oughta be respectable fathers by now.
 
And in my room, making a face as if I were dying, I'm finally able to sing a song like this.
 
Thanks to my friends, I'm still standing.
 
Thanks to my family, I can walk.
 
And thanks to you, I'm still living.
 
I don't really want to say thanks, but hey, one day, when we all go our separety ways, even at that time, I want to be smilling.
 
''Even the bluest days of our past turned out right in the end'' - I want to be smilling, so that I can say that proudly.
 
And just like that, even our dreams that didn't come true at some point become no more than scenery that passes us by.
 
In the end, with these hands still empty, we're waving a big good-bye to each other.
 
And in these eyes, which could't even come up eith something to say, I'm holding back the tears as we give our goodbyes.
 
Don't get so down! This is just the starting line!
 
Our new beginning at the end.
 
This world isn't really that beautiful, but hey, there's no need for us to hurry through it so fast, is there?
 
The world often betrays our expectations, but sometimes we can find happiness that we weren't even expecting.
 
So I'm going to muscle through all the times I've been betrayed, since those betrayals are proof that I tried to believe i something.
 
And I've lost every ounce of what I didn't trust.
 
I don't really want to say that I've been hurt, so, from now on, no matter what happens, I want us to live rushing forward, without ever looking back.
 
''The yesterday we stumbled over were just the lead-up'' - I want to live rushing forward, so that I can say that proudly.
 
And by doing just that, even our now-tragic memories will become the funny stories we recount to others.
 
And at that time, with my knees finally giving out, I'll rush right out of this darkness.
 
And at that time, I'll be clenching sand in my palms, because I wanted to hold on to something real.
 
You get it, don't you? This is just the starting line!
 
Our new beginning at the end.
 
The days pass us by, the years pass us by, the people who matter most pass us by.
 
''I have to hurry! I have to hurry!''
 
But I got a little flustered, and I stumbied over, ''I can't move at all!'' - even as I was sprawled out on the ground, time passed by.
 
So I thought, and thought, and finally reassured myself.
 
I stood back up, and I broke out running, and right then, the sky that I always looked up at seemed different from back then.
 
And that's because I'm living in the future of those days.
 
I don't want to have everything be for nothing!
 
None of it was a mistake!
 
And the person supporting me right now, is the ''me'' that was so disheartened those days.
 
''Thank you'' and ''I love you'' - I don't really get what they mean, but I wanted to be singing them.
 
''You were right for having believed in me back then'' - I want to be singing so that I can say that proudly.
 
So this is all I want to say: what keeps pushing me forward is that face of yours, smilling for me.
 
With this arm that I kept reaching out back then, I'm strumming hard on this guitar.
 
And with the mouth that could't say anything back then, I'm screaming out this shitty song.
 
Every time, this is just the starting line!
 
Our new beginning at the end.
 
A beginning at the end.
 

amazarashi - A Feeling of Life 生活感

Versions: #2
amazarashi - A Feeling of Life 生活感
 
The reflected light of the highway flares in the blue sky.
 
A mirage of the Milky Way, the Northern Star feels alive.
 
More fuel in the heater. A night of deep snow.
 
The smoke rises up endlessly. The whooping cough starts to act up.
 
In the forest at the hase of a precipitous mountain, a moonlit night that only comes once every thousands of years.
 
An invoice that elicits a sigh.
 
The girl sleeps soundly, cloaked in stillness.
 
On a wallpaper depicting a dense forest, a centipede makes its way across the world.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
To this song of joy, this ode.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
To this song of joy, this ode.
 

amazarashi - Waiting for Spring 春待ち

Versions: #2
amazarashi - Waiting for Spring 春待ち
 
The alley to the right, when your back faces the station, meets a dead end at a freight warehouse.
 
There, across the corner from a coin laundry, is the road to her house.
 
''Though I follow a number of memories, the road I'll follow is this alone.''
 
I stay with only these sentimentalities, which I'll one day leave behind.
 
A certain town. The passing of heavy rain.
 
A blanket of snow. Damp, slushy snow.
 
In the end, I rise up against the dancing snow, and I wait for spring.
 
At the mercy of high waves the gulls drifting about beneath the midnight sun are lost in the engulfing darkness. I offer my condolences, and I wait for spring.
 
Beyond this point, the darkness grows. I wince at it.
 
Suddenly, the lyrics I've written are worthless, so I wait for spring.
 
The flowers count the seconds until their bloom. Faintly, sunlight pours in.
 
A good omen. On this day, I leave town, and wait for spring.
 
Somewhere, I'll wait for spring.
 
Somewhere, I'll wait for spring.
 
Somewhere.
 
Somewhere.
 

Crucified

I cheat the night, but I can't cheat the day
The knife in my heart spoils my plan
All is OK
Just it's not
 
Guilty in advance, convicted in advance
Officially alive, but estranged from everybody
All is OK
Just it's not
 
I don't care about the judgement
Nor what the family will say
Let's go until the end
When we've made it this far already
It is all
Just a show
 
You switch off your head
And turn off the tone
Everybody is right today
And that's it
But we
Are not everybody
 
I just want to be silent on your shoulder
To hug you and kiss you until we leave
Let everything go
It's too late
 
And to listen to your breathing, to find salvation there
May they tell stories, I'll live for us
And for the world, I'm
Crucified
Crucified
 
Why don't we go somewhere, where nobody knows us?
Two, two tickets, please, for Vietnam or for the abyss
All is OK
Just it's not
 
God will be the judge, but there's no time
He loved people, but perished young
It's not fair? Is it?
As if anybody cares?!
 
I just want to be silent on your shoulder
To hug you and kiss you until we leave
Let everything go
It's too late
 
And to listen to your breathing, to find salvation there
May they tell stories, I'll live for us
And for the world, I'm
Crucified
Crucified
 

amazarashi - The Reason I Wanted To Die 僕が死のうと思ったのは

Versions: #2
The Reason I Wanted To Die
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that seagulls were squawking down by the wharf.
 
They floated off at the mercy of the waves.
 
Peck away at my past, too, before you fly off.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that our apricot tree blossomed on my birthay.
 
When I dozed off in its dappled sunlight, I wondered if I could join all the dead bugs and return to dust.
 
Peppermint candy. The lamplight of a fishing harbour.
 
In front of a stove in a wooden station building, but there's nowhere my heart can embark.
 
Today was exactly the same as yesterday.
 
''If you want to change tomorrow you have to change today!''
 
I get that. I get it. But still...
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that my heart had become hollow.
 
The reason I cry about how unsatisfied I am, is surely because I'm wishing for fulfillment.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that my shoelaces had come untied.
 
I was never really that good at re-tying them.
 
My relationships with others are same way, too.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that a teenager was staring right at me.
 
And now I'm prostrated atop my bed, apologizing to my younger self.
 
The dim light of the computer. The ambient noise from the floors above.
 
A bird-caged boy, plugging his ears to block out the interphone chime.
 
I'm fighting with an enemy I can't even see, like I'm Don Quixote in this 10x10 bedroom.
 
And in the end, what I'm fighting for is a truly unseemly thing.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that I was called a cold-hearted person.
 
The reason I cry that I long to be loved, is that can't unlearn the warmth of another person's touch.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that you smile so beautifully.
 
The reason I can't stop thinking about death, must be that I take living too seriously.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that I still hadn't met you yet!
 
If the world has people like you in it, then I like the world a little bit more.
 
If the world has people like you in it, then I have a little bit more hope for the world.
 

amazarashi - In the Darkness: To Leave and Never Return

Versions: #2
In the Darkness: To Leave and Never Return
 
Sucking on a piece of hard candy, in a school building the night before the war, jailed-up teenagers whistle the moonlit night.
 
And on the two-day-old newspaper that clings to the iron fences are the typical sensationalist headlines and smiles of a mother and father.
 
On the veranda of an apartment building, a pack of panty-raiding boys - steal the capitalism-glorifying lingerie.
 
In my case, I want to get in a little bit of trouble tonight, so I'm packing contraband CDs and a knife in my backpack.
 
Misery is continuing to act miserable, while being miserable all the while.
 
And my misery makes me boast about how miserable I am.
 
''If it's sunny out tomorrow, let's go play catch or something!'' - Catch this emotionally unstable curveball!
 
The days always pass us by, and they always leave us in the dust.
 
We missed the last train, and we're waiting for daybreak on the platform.
 
But we're such cowards, so we always cry as though we were the victims.
 
And we'll cry untill these excuse-like tears return to the sea.
 
It's like I'm driving a bomb-rigged truck down the rough roads of the Middle East with a speed far greater than merely hurrying toward death.
 
And though that's not really the reason, I'm going out on a journey.
 
There's exhaust gas in the headwinds, and I've got the Blue Hearts playing on cassette.
 
Tomorrow will take care of itself, just like it always does.
 
Our freedom always makes us run off at the mouth about how restrained we are.
 
If yesterday never comes back once it leaves, then on recycling day, it can take with it the thrown out heap of classified magazines.
 
The days always pass us by, and they always leave us in the dust.
 
We missed the last train, and we're waiting for daybreak on the platform.
 
But we're such cowards, so we always cry as though we were the victims.
 
And we'll cry untill these excuse-like tears return to the sea.
 
Until they return to the sea.
 
Until they return to the sea.
 
''Do we keep going? Do we turn back?'' We can't look back ever again!
 
''Do we keep going? Do we turn back?'' Once you stand still, it's over!
 
Like empty soda cans that didn't make it into the park trash bin - Look! Our unfulfilled dreams from way back when are littered on the ground.
 
The days always pass us by, and they always leave us in the dust.
 
We missed the last train, and we're waiting for daybreak on the platform.
 
But we're such cowards, so we always cry as though we were the victims.
 
And we'll cry untill these excuse-like tears return to the sea.
 
Until they return to the sea.
 
Until they return to the sea.
 

Pain In My Heart

when my blind darkness opens up
and the thorns in the slums giggle
a secret slips, crying, from your lips
life stops and the universe grows between us
 
I’m left staring at your blonde hair, I leave
I can’t know your pain, but I still love you, I love you
I’m a poor traveller across your desert, pain in my heart
I sleep as I curse my inn-keeper, I curse
 
love becomes the nightingale,
but this, this is not that rose
 
which eye, so far, has seen the right without a struggle
the day dawns, however dark it may be
how can I become we if I don’t seek myself
this is love, the wise know, if you dare to seek it
 
I’m left staring at your blonde hair, I leave
I have no idea of the pain it will cause, and I love, I love
I’m a poor traveller across your desert, pain in my heart
I sleep as I curse my inn-keeper, I curse
 
love becomes the nightingale,
but this, this is not that rose
 

Cold November

I'll turn to ashes.
If I don't touch your tender lips.
I will end up in hell.
If suddenly your new friend appears.
Also, the great details are not important.
Woven with one line of fate.
External harassment is sufficient.
So together we can still share something.
 
Chorus:
The tears are falling, on the open wounds.
Cold November, painful autumn.
No joy in forecasts, all the plans are in ruins.
Cold November, painful autumn.
Cold November... Cold November..
Cold November... Cold November..
 
We were overcome by affection.
Forgetting, that everything comes to an end
But the colors have changed, it remains warm
Sometime in October.
I'm waiting for you to add the photo, darling.
So this new life has began.
This sweet taste of flying.
But we won't love anyone like this anymore.
 
Chorus:
The tears are falling, on the open wounds.
Cold November, painful autumn.
No joy in forecasts, all the plans are in ruins.
Cold November, painful autumn.
Cold November... Cold November..
Cold November... Cold November..
 
Like the sunshower the drops are falling
What kept us together, flowed away
What we promised is disappeared without a trace
You are my love, the first and the last
 
The tears are falling, on the open wounds.
Cold November, painful autumn.
No joy in forecasts, all the plans are in ruins.
Cold November, painful autumn.
Cold November... Cold November..
Cold November... Cold November..
 

Southern wind

The sea breeze salutes me
My body takes the rhythm to nature
I whirl my panama hat revolving the finger
 
The fruit wine they sent to my table
Is a message of someone unknown
I look on my back an I'm perplexed by a strong gaze
 
With the feet crossed in a white chair
And resting the chin in a hand you draw my attention
Like in a movie
I comb my hair up a little melancholically
Dangerous heart
 
Under the silhouette of the shadow of a coconut tree
My burnt body rests
Ignoring your transparent gaze and your pose
 
If you're a man dead of temptation
The seaside distracts me
Spontaneously you waved your hand attracting me
A beautiful boy on a white yatch
Dazzling eyes
 
If you're a man dead of temptation
You call me to the hotel window
Making me wave my freshly washed hair
In an instant I wink at you playing
Is it dangerous?
 

My translations are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. It doesn't apply to the translations with a source.

In your eyes I see spring

In your eyes I see spring
In your eyes I could could drown
And I'd like to inhale deeper
Word for word - and again (2x)
 
Heart is beating quite loudly
Echoes in my chest
It's afraid it will be overwhelmed
My little boy
Come to me!
 
My little boy
Come to me!
 
Do it, do it,
Do your deed
And boldly strike me (2x)
 
In your eyes I see spring
In your eyes I could could drown
And I'd like to inhale deeper
Word for word - and again
 
Heart is beating quite loudly
Echoes in my chest
It's afraid it will be overwhelmed
My little boy
Come to me!
 
Feedback is appreciated. If you like or dislike something, leave a note...
The objective is to further human understanding so my feeble attempts are not copyrighted.

Fight

People tell me that I have a character*1
Like a thing that does not fit
That it isn't necessary to impress myrself
If they glue chestnuts on me!*2
 
And that I don't have the physique
That one day I am going to get a red card
And that it is a way
Reserved for bad boys
That a girl cannot have a scar on her chin
And that I am a bad person because
I raise my voice
 
My baker who never tells me 'Hello', nor 'Thank you',
I grince my teth, then I become impolite
I tear out my hair, start clenching my fists
She cathes a baguette and I hit her in the face!*3
 
Chorus:
Yes I am angry and that annoys me
People play on my nerves, that riles me up
And I fight!
And yes I am angry and that annoys me
People look right through me, that riles me up
And so I punch!
And so I punch!
 
I
He whistles to me in the street, 'Come see, darling!'
But me, a little blue flower, vexed and bored by it
There appears a thing like the one that starts to glow, a wish to break everything
So I turn into a firework and I show him my karate!
 
She told me: 'You are kind, but no need to bring it,
Your cheap tattoo is far from impressing me
You talk too much, you talk hard, and there's nothing to be agitated about
I will put you back to your place, if you just provoke me
My poles shift a little, my ears start to heat up,*4
I become scarlet red and I spit my fire!
 
Chorus:
Yes I am angry and that annoys me
People play on my nerves, that riles me up
And I fight!
And yes I am angry and that annoys me
People look right through me, that riles me up
And so I punch!
And so I punch!
 
I don't have a bad character, but no need to tickle me too much
One word louder than another one, I am easy to wind up
I have a taste for the fighting, I do not do my job*5
They know my banner, they are afraid to hang out near it!
I have a leather jacket, like hooligans from my neighborhood,
I warn you baby, if you find me, it's going to be bloody!
 
Chorus:
Yes I am angry and that annoys me
People play on my nerves, that riles me up
And I fight!
And yes I am angry and that annoys me
People look right through me, that riles me up
And so I punch!
And so I punch!
 
Yes I am angry and that annoys me
People play on my nerves, that riles me up
And I fight!
And yes I am angry and that annoys me
People look right through me, that riles me up
And so I punch!
And so I punch!
 
And I fight!
And I fight!
And yes, I punch!
And yes, I punch!
 

amazarashi - Living Dead (リビングデッド) Song 2018

Living dead
 
Take a closer look: they run rampant in an age where nobody can be innocent.
 
Even as they condemn one another, they just grow apathetic again.
 
The hole that opened up when love left us -there are no idols large enough to fill it here.
 
Or at the very least are none in my room.
 
They keep stuff like ''I want to keep living'' and ''I just want to die already''
 
Oh, living dead.
 
Oh, living dead.
 
They wander idly through life.
 
Some say, ''I can't take this anymore!'' as they jump from rooftops.
 
The rest have faces that say ''That's none of my business. If I can live without taking that responsibility, then I'll do just that.''
 
Even though there's no such thing as ''eternity'', we made up a world for it, and now we choke up with tears at impermanence.
 
When we scream our regrets, weaknesses, and tears loud enough, they become songs.
 
So to the people whose tears won't dry up: go on and sing!
 
Let's stop throwing stones at each other when we falter and fail.
 
After all, everyone makes mistakes sometimes.
 
In fact, we're already making one right now: Because we're linving in an age where it's no skin off your back if you don't love your neighbor, and understanding each other isn't such a simple thing to do.
 
''Which way was it? I don't care anymore. I'll just go where I want.''
 
Oh, living dead.
 
Oh, living dead.
 
They aren't hindered by the corpses they wear.
 
They don't back.
 
They can't turn back.
 
But even still, they can't choose a path.
 
Never looking back, always gazing up at tomorrow's sky.
 
Even though there's no such thing as ''correct'', we made up a word for it.
 
Tomorrow, yet again, we'll be clinging to our hatchets.
 
When we confess by ourselves our cowardice, crimes, and disgrace, they become songs.
 
So to the people who won't be forgiven: go on and sing!
 
If we're searching for righteousness, then at the very least won't find it here. We won't find it here.
 
A steam train could make a full journey, fuelled by all the mistaken emotions of dejected losers.
 
It's all horseshit.
 
We have no choice but to give up on honesty and integrity. We've dirtied our hands.
 
And if some haughty prick belittles that as worthless drivel, I'll kill them it their sleep.
 
Burn away your unfulfilled wishes.
 
Burn away your unrealized dreams.
 
Burn away your fruitless resentment.
 
Burn away the nights that never fully died.
 
Even though there's no such thing as ''absolute'', we made up a word for it.
 
Why are we always keeping an eye out for what our neighbors might do?
 
When we sink our inferioty complexes and self-loathing down to the bottom, they become songs.
 
So to the people who can't quite die: go on and sing!
 

The Cabernet (The Second Ariya of Ivan)

Versions: #2
Cherries have ripened in Uncle Vanya's garden,
In Uncle Vanya's garden, cherries have ripened,
And now uncle Vanya and aunt Grunya are in a bathhouse,
In late afternoon, we went out as if for a walk.
 
That afternoon, we were sitting and demure drinking,
The Cabernet was little by little filling our entrails,
Suddenly Pet'ka from next door quietly hinted
That cherries have ripened in Uncle Vanya's garden,
We didn't know, we didn't know anything about it,
And we were drinking, we drank the Cabernet,
At that time, in Uncle Vanya's garden, cherries were ripening,
They even became a little overripe.
 
Cabernet, Caberhet, Cabernet, nau! (x3)
Drink quickly, the cherries have become overripe!
 
We crushed a box of bottles and went on the job,
A thought came into my head
That we can quickly rob the neighbor's garden
Until the cherries become overripe there.
At home, we changed our pants
So that they wouldn't be torn on our asses,
So that it would be easier to climb trees,
If I fucking lied, I would be an asshole, really.
 
Mum, prepaire patches,
Mum, prepaire needles,
Mum, don't yell at me so long,
'Cause we have decided
To take a walk in the village.
 
Cabernet, Caberhet, Cabernet, nau! (x3)
Aw, yeah!
Cabernet, Caberhet, Cabernet, nau! (x3)
Drink quichly, and let's go on the job!
 
We still had to walk a little distantion,
There were two houses which we had to go around,
Pet'ka, motherfucker, asshole, be quiet, keep your voice down,
Here is Uncle Vanya's garden, in front of us!
Guys, climb quieter,
Will we be seen, or not?!
'Maybe, anyone will see that we're breathing air'
Said this asshole Pet'ka carrying baskets.
 
Well, Pet'ka, bend down this branch!
He rained all cherries down to his shirt,
But he hung on the branch too much and broke it,
And he fell down together with the cherries. He was very angry.
 
Cabernet, Caberhet, Cabernet, nau! (x3)
Don't make noice with a glass, uncle Vanya can hear us!
 
Let uncle Vanya bathe aunt Grunya,
Let he has sex with her in a kolhoz bathhouse,
We say together: 'Thank you, aunt Grunya!'
And say to uncle Vanya: 'Thank you, uncle Vanya!'
 
But Uncle Vanya's dog didn't nap,
It didn't sleep and was aware of everything,
It, bitch, understood everything perfectly,
And it torn our pants and our asses.
 
Mum, we have torn our pants,
Mum, our asses have been torn,
We all overlooked the male dog,
Mum, we are badly hurt because of it.
Cabernet, Caberhet, Cabernet, nau! (x4)
Ah, Cabernet, nau! (x2)
Cabernet, nau! (x18)
 
(Narrative Part)
 
The King called his three sons,
Sternly looked at them from his eyebrows,
And then the petty King said:
'Today is your time to get married!
Wipe your snot on your fucking faces,
Each of you, take an arrow!
You all must go to the open country,
But don't go there in a Chevrolet.
You better ride horses,
It's more comfortable and humbler,
You all must shoot your arrow to the sky
And run for it,
And where your arrow will have flown
There will be your wife,
But don't fuck her right away,
Wait until it's getting dark...'
 
The sons began to ride their horses,
They went a fucking long way,
And shot every which way
To find a cunt for each of them.
 
Older brother's arrow
Has flown to a nobles' mansion:
And this arrow deep penetrated
In the ass of noble's daughter.
 
Making a loud squeak
Middle-brother's arrow
Hit merchant's daughter
Straight in her vagina.
 
The arrow of the youngest Ivan the Fool
Flew far away
And Ivan's arrow
Disappeared beyond the forests.
 
And Ivan hit the road,
He was diligently going like a ram,
Then he came on a swamp,
He became overgrown like a partisan:
 
'I am fucking tired to go,
I want to drink at least some water,
I should get the hair of the dog
After yesterday's booze...
Something is itching in my fucking groin,
Maybe I'll die very soon?!
My skull hurts, I can't help myself!
What is croaking here, in the bushes?'
 

Шапатом

Ти и ја смо шапатом, шапатом
Питали ''Шта даље? Шта ће даље бити?''
Шапатом, шапатом нећу да вичем
Да ћемо заборавити једно друго
Шапатом, шапатом
Питали ''Шта даље? Шта ће даље бити?''
Шапатом, шапатом нећу да вичем
О томе што смо ми различити људи
 
Кафа и алкохол не терају бол
Само мириси твојих парфема
Ако би љубав могла да говори
Чуо би се шапат задовољних речи
У тој тишини ишчезава суштина
Ти ћутиш? Или ја вичем?
Јеси ли ти у мени? Или је то жива?
Само хоћу да ти дошапнем
 
Ти и ја смо шапатом, шапатом
Питали ''Шта даље? Шта ће даље бити?''
Шапатом, шапатом нећу да вичем
Да ћемо заборавити једно друго
Шапатом, шапатом
Питали ''Шта даље? Шта ће даље бити?''
Шапатом, шапатом нећу да вичем
О томе што смо ми различити људи
 
Мисли се расипају као песак
Казаљке на сату нас деле
Тишина нас спасава од сувишних речи
Али цена спаса лије из очију
Шапат твојих усана се не може вратити
Ако је тако, записаћу то тактовима
Јеси ли ти у мени? Или је то отров?
Или те ја само тако питам
 

Sad People

[Verse 1, Diane Abernina]:
Do not worry, you will not be late anyway
Without threats and excuses. I'm snow.
Do not worry, I melt at dawn -
Keep me a secret from everyone.
 
Chorus:
Sad people - we are each other
Can't, will no longer.
It is worth imagining that we are gone:
Life is under attack, I am under attack.
 
[Verse 2, Sergey Lazarev]:
Do not worry, we are talented children.
Time does not catch us on the net, you are mercury.
But I'm not afraid - I inhale you gently,
Soon to sleep peacefully.
 
Chorus:
Sad people - we are each other
Can't, will no longer.
It is worth imagining that we are gone:
Life is under attack, I am under attack.
 
I'm under attack ... I'm under attack ...
 
Chorus:
Sad people - we are each other
Can't, will no longer.
It is worth imagining that we are gone:
Life is under attack, I am under attack.
 
Don't worry, -
Anyway, you won't be late.
Without threats and excuses.
I'm snow ...
 

Where have you been for so long?

This story is quite strange,
a far away love and a close love,
a story of all of us,
it relaxes your mind when we finish it.
 
Where have you been for so long?
My mind has flown away and heart become jealous,
I've turned the world over for you,
and haven't found you anywhere.
 
Why haven't I seen you for a while,
I gave you my heart and more.
 
Might have seen you on the street,
my mirror passed by a stranger.
 
Waaah
Oh dad oh dad where have you been, where have you been, where have you been for so long?
Oh dad where have you been, where have you been, where have you been for so long?
 
Oh dad oh dad where have you been, where have you been, where have you been for so long?
Oh dad where have you been, where have you been, my heart says and for so long?
 
If we could go back in time,
I wouldn't leave anyplace,
I'd flip all of Amman for you,
I'd ask every person about you.
 
If I could choose what happened,
I'd find you and the past would be the past,
and you in my arms today,
oh dad.
 
Why haven't I seen you for a while,
I gave you my heart and more.
 
Might have seen you on the street,
my mirror passed by a stranger.
 
Waaah
Oh dad oh dad where have you been, where have you been, where have you been for so long?
Oh dad where have you been, where have you been, where have you been for so long?
 
Oh dad oh dad where have you been, where have you been, where have you been for so long?
Oh dad where have you been, where have you been, my heart says and for so long?
 
And for so long
 

A tale heard in the transportation depot

So I was on my way to delivering some gravel
in my old wreck of a
and I drove slowly, chatting with a chick
to which I gave a ride, just for the company.
I talked to her tenderly, like to a princess,
yet she must have weighted about 20 stones1.
Had she been working as a stewardess
the plane would never have lifted off the ground.
 
I said 'Bonjour madame merci l'amour toujours2 or something,
I would be delighted to know your name.'
And she said: 'Pardon me, my name is Nyurka3,
and what about yours? How should I call you?'
I told her I was Grisha4, also unmarried,
a lone traveller since young age,
and I added that I was pretty well-off,
with a plump wallet in my pocket5 for more than 30 years.
 
After a dozen kilometers or so,
I quietly stopped the GAZ-51 and told her
I had busted the [beep]ing shaft and we were up [beep] creek.
Then I quietly drove in neutral toward the forest.
She said: 'You're taking the piss, I bet the shaft is fine.
You just have something on your mind, but that's ok, I'm game'
And of course everyone around here knows I'm an adept [beep]er,
and I thought 'great, now she's all mine'.
 
I climbed onto her, but the cabin is pretty small, you see,
and her navel squeezed me right against the roof.
Out of breath, I said 'My dear Nyurka,
let's get out of here, I can't stand it any longer!'
We went to a forest patch, that was easy to find,
and she immediately forgot all about her, hmm, modesty.
I [beep]ed her blind6 and gave her six [beep]ing helpings!
 
She said: 'Exhausted already, you scoundrel?
Now I'll climb on top of you and squash you on the spot.
Come on, get a move on, why did you stop?
Faster, come on, shake it until I [beep]!'
I can endure quite a lot, but still I'm not her pig,
and I have an (appointment?) at half past five.
And then I said to myself: 'come on, driver Egorov,
give her a good [beep]ing and let her run away home.
I lifted her with difficulty and gave her (hell).
'Get lost, you [beep]' I shouted as she ran.
'Well, you wanted a good [beep],
but how many times is it possible? I went to 7 already.'
I walked back and happily sat in my cool truck
I reversed along the track and was back to the long road in no time,
and I laughed about the whole [beep]ing story as I drove,
thinking to myself those chicks were nothing but [beep].
 
Now listen further:
 
After delivering the gravel, I immediately went to the pub,
to get myself a good beer after a long ride.
But when I put my hand in my pocket, I immediately realized
my plump wallet was gone!
 
I am the GAZ driver!
 
- Come on Petrovich7, finish your story. Pour him another drink!
 
I am the GAZ driver!
 
- Petrovich is pissed! Pour him another!
- Another glass for Petrovich!
- Bring 'em up!
 
Now I will give an advice to all at the end of my story:
In order not to loose your wallet ever,
don't fool around with chicks nor stray into the forest,
and your wallet shall always stay with you!
 

• 1. 7 puds, which puts the girl's weight around 115 kg or 18 stones (rounded up for luck, making the poor girl about 10% heavier)
• 2. 'Hello miss thanks love always' in (broken) French
• 3. A diminutive of 'Anna'
• 4. A diminutive of 'Grigory'
• 5. 'my pocket had not been empty'
• 6. '(so hard) that my eyes went blurry'
• 7. His father's name, I guess. The full name must be Grigory Petrovich Egorov

amazarashi - ''14 Years Old'' 14歳

Versions: #2
14 Years Old
 
Songs of ash.
 
Powerlessness.
 
Grief and mourning.
 
The gloom of crows, sitting on the overhead wire of the North-bound Joban Line platform.
 
The gloom of the girl watching them, shouldering days that she can't laugh away.
 
''Every day, it's always the same, but I'm not a kid anymore. So I won't chase after the things that have left, and I won't look back on things past. I still feel like I'm making a mistake, but there's surely no getting around that.''
 
The long hair of a boy, who came to Tokyo with a dream sways in the gust from the city's high-rises. And she watches it.
 
She watches.
 
With the eves of a crow, she watches.
 
She watches.
 
Songs of ash.
 
Powerlessness.
 
Grief and mourning.
 
I have no idea where I am.
 
I can't put up with the lingering ridicule.
 
It's like white dwarf star down an alleyway, and I'd like to be incinerated in it.
 
In an instant, I'd be turned to dust, blow off into the wind, and disappear.
 
But I'm cooped up in a locked room, so I won't even burn out or anything.
 
A father and son were laughing out on the veranda of an orange apartment building.
 
Their voices were confident that good things would happen tomorrow.
 
But it was a little heartbreaking, just how confident those voices were.
 
Because with dark clouds in the distante, I'm sure there will be rain tomorrow.
 
It wasn't fun, but we tried to smile.
 
And yet, we're still empty inside.
 
Right now, I need to start doing something.
 
In that case, I'll sing songs.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
Songs of ash.
 
Powerlessness.
 
Grief and mourning.
 
In the attic of teenage self-consciousness, which wanted to fit in more than anything else, all the light is blocked out by posters that say things like, ''I didn't want people to dislike me''.
 
''What on earth can I even become?'' - in the end, I didn't really become anything.
 
Still today I live on, sipping an evening dew that resembles the embers of adolescence.
 
Unlike all the American movies, my happy ending never came.
 
In the end I'm still me, so in the end today is still today.
 
I thought we were supposed to have the power to change our futures.
 
A run-of-the-mill variety show playing on TV made me laugh a little.
 
It wasn't sad, but tears still fell.
 
That's because we're always empty inside.
 
Right now, I need to start doing something. In that case, I'll sing songs.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
She didn't want to live, but she still survived.
 
Because even today, she's still empty inside.
 
Right now, I need to convey something. In that case, I'll sing songs.
 
Though dreams don't really exist, I tried to sing.
 
Because in the end, everything is garbage.
 
Right now, I need to leave something behind. In that case, I'll sing songs.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
Songs of ash.
 
Powerlessness.
 
Grief and mourning.
 

amazarashi - “Mayday, Mayday!” メーデーメーデー

Versions: #2
Men and women of all ages bleach their retinas, clouded by limitless pleasures.
 
They march mindlessly along to the tune of depravity.
 
Resistance is futile.
 
Tyranny of the majority.
 
No is not even an option.
 
That still, small voice in your head? Kill him.
 
Ignorance incarnate, incompetence, and trash are our moral compass now.
 
The opposers, who stay clear of the dazzling, popular world are cornered here, backed against the wall of modern rationalism.
 
We pray for the many victims on the other side of the TV, but click our tongues at the suicide victim who delayed today's train.
 
Our ill intentions are unconscious, like sighs, and they saturate Tokyo with a smell like fast-food oil.
 
A moment of silence.
 
“Keep it down, you're so noisy!”, my self-consciousness can't help but blurt out, “Stop ruining the silence!”.
 
Trampled asphalt, an anatomy purged of all life - if we should die equally in this land, the Sister!
 
Please show us mercy on us outlanders!
 
What is “immorality”? For it was good that begat evil.
 
We cling tight to it, immediately after it abuses us - “You whore!”
 
The age of mankind's rebellion is at last ushered is by the 21st century.
 
In order to redefine value, virtue, and beauty, we have a sword sharpened for insurrection, hymns of lamentation.
 
You haven't forgotten who you are, have you?
 
At a used bookstore, Heidegger comes at a dollar a pop.
 
High-rise buildings.
 
Anonymity.
 
Irony.
 
Materialism.
 
Coughed-up blood.
 
Sensitivity.
 
Destined to burn.
 
A shameless civilization.
 
And our only consolations are that we die after the final chorus and that nirvana comes eventually.
 
We weep at such a naturally evident condemnation, “Mayday! Mayday!” with a naive love that wails like a child.
 
After graduating college, he found a job at a small company.
 
He took that as the opportunity to settle down with the classmate he had been dating.
 
Sons and daughters, one by one.
 
Blessed by a family of four.
 
Work was hard, but the salary was better than average, so he was at ease for a while.
 
He sacrificed so many things.
 
he gritted his teeth through all the humiliation.
 
For his efforts, it seemed like he might be able to afford that brand new apartment downtown.
 
Light started to shine a bit.
 
He worked himself harder than ever before.
 
But that ended poorly.
 
Ambition and vanity kept him away from his friends.
 
Rumors spread about how loathsome he was.
 
He was insulted and scorned.
 
“Don't stand out”, he admonished himself Peer pressure.
 
Bottom of the hierarchy.
 
Housing costs.
 
Down payments.
 
Savings.
 
He realized he was no more than a chained- up dog.
 
He couldn't bear to let down his wife's smiling face.
 
──── That's all what I guess happened, to the guy who jumped in front the train today.
 
High-rise buildings.
 
Anonymity.
 
Irony.
 
Materialism.
 
Coughed-up blood.
 
Sensitivity.
 
Destined to burn.
 
A shameless civilization.
 
And our only consolations are that we die after the final chorus and that nirvana comes eventually.
 
We weep at such a naturally evident condemnation, “Mayday! Mayday!” with a naive love that wails like a child.
 
Should we lay them off?
 
Should we discriminate?
 
Should they be weeded out?
 
Truth is, that very sort of malice is ubiquitous.
 
These days, if you're able to have the confidence that you'll be alright, you're either stupidly powerful or just plain stupid.
 
If the only reason you vent your anger on others is that you want to flaunt your status, then you should keep that filthy, sewage drain of a mouth shut.
 
Is this a loveless era? I don't think so.
 
But I've seen love carelessly handled countless times.
 
I love people.
 
But more than that, I've hated people too.
 
There are bastards I want to kill, but I've also met people I want to protect.
 
The time to idly resent the world is over.
 
I plan to pay it back.
 
But if it gets to than point, I wonder if I'm going to have to fight.
 
Win or lose, top or bottom - it's not about that.
 
Not prizes or awards either: it's already a fight for survival.
 
Can you afford to be distracted?
 
Can you bear to stay silent?
 
Will you please just make it out of this alive?
 
High-rise buildings.
 
Anonymity.
 
Irony.
 
Materialism.
 
Coughed-up blood.
 
Sensitivity.
 
Destined to burn.
 
A shameless civilization.
 
And our only consolations are that we die after the final chorus and that nirvana comes eventually.
 
We weep at such a naturally evident condemnation, “Mayday! Mayday!” with a naive love that wails like a child.
 
“Mayday! Mayday!” with a naive love that wails like a child.
 
“Mayday! Mayday!” with a naive love that wails like a child.
 

Тако лепо

Твоја љубав је одавала звуке
Који су личили на буку океана
Твоја љубав је давала руке
Да би с њима излечила ране
Твоја љубав је притискала срце
Тако тихо-тихо и није пуштала
ТВоја љубав је враћала у детињство
Давала је све што је недостајало
 
Твоја љубав је тако лепа
Твоја љубав је такт тих сила
Твоја љубав је само моја светиљка
Твоја љубав је тако лепа
Твоја љубав је тако лепа
Твоја љубав је такт тих сила
Твоја љубав ме је доводила
Али твоја љубав је тако лепа (х2)
 
Твоја љубав је пуштала близу
Опраштала крике, тукла по живцима
Опраштала је бол, признавала ризике
Твоја љубав је све умиривала у мени
Твоја љубав је додиривала тело
Мењала време на мирис коже
Твоја љубав је постајала цела
Из два дела, која не личе
 
Твоја љубав је тако лепа
Твоја љубав је такт тих сила
Твоја љубав је само моја светиљка
Твоја љубав је тако лепа
Твоја љубав је тако лепа
Твоја љубав је такт тих сила
Твоја љубав ме је доводила
Али твоја љубав је тако лепа (х2)
 

amazarashi - Karappo no sora ni tsubusareru (空っぽの空に潰される)

Versions: #4
amazarashi - Crushed Beneath an Empty Sky
 
I collected too many letters that I had to get rid of my own belongings.
 
Just as I finally start to feel satisfied, the truth is it empty again.
 
''It's better to have more money'',
 
''It's better to have more friends'',
 
''It's better to have more peace of mind''
 
- what is ''happiness'' in the end?
 
We speel ''frantic'' as ''certain of death'',
 
we speel ''dazed'' as ''inside of a dream''.
 
And, right now, frantic and dazed, we're running through the seasons.
 
Our injuries wouldn't stop growing, but we had friends who could laugh and say, ''It hurts!''
 
But don't envy your past self- that person's only an imaginary rival.
 
If you're happy, you should laugh, right?
 
But in that time, what can I even do? Tell me! Tell me!
 
I'm crushed beneath this empty, empty, empty sky!
 
When you're sad, you should cry, right?
 
So what should I do when I feel so empty? Tell me! Tell me!
 
These curt seasons come one after another, saying goodbye without any reluctance.
 
And on top of that, what should I even look forward to? Tell me! Tell me!
 
I'm crushed beneath this empty, empty, empty sky.
 
In the end, ''human beings'' seem to have one or two things missing.
 
Do you think we're lacking something?
 
Do you think we're in need of something?
 
I only have as little baggage as I need, and for me that's more than enough.
 
So let's see if I can run again.
 
Let's see if I can run, frantic and dazed.
 
Today comes to an and, and another today comes around.
 
I can't go anywhere as they stream past, but when I said I hate the things I hate, I've finally washed ashore at this ''today''.
 
That's why today is an anniversary: the anniversary of when I finally took a stand.
 
But there's still just one problem: today feels completely empty.
 
If you're happy, you should laugh, right?
 
When you're sad, you should cry, right?
 
So what should I do when I feel so empty? Tell me! Tell me!
 
The people and things we loved abruptly disappear, saying goodbye without any reluctance.
 
And on top of that, what should I even look forward to? Tell me! Tell me!
 
I'm crushed beneath this empty, empty, empty sky.
 
Would things get easier if I complained? Would things get easier if I did nothing but cry?
 
Does it feel nice to say ''I want to die''?
 
Do I even want to take another step from here?
 
I left something behind somewhere, in a classroom or maybe back in the womb.
 
''Happiness'' must be learning to love your permanent flaws.
 
If you're happy, you should laugh, right?
 
When you're sad, you should cry, right?
 
So what should I do when I feel so empty? Tell me! Tell me!
 
I came all this way from a dark place, only to return back to another dark place.
 
But in that time, what can I even do? Tell me! Tell me!
 
I'm crushed beneath this empty, empty, empty sky!
 

amazarashi『ポルノ映画の看板の下で』|| Poruno eiga no kanban no shitade

Versions: #2
''Underneath the billboard of a pornographic movie''
 
The shadow of an old apartment complex stretches out, and it engulfs an abandoned bed of flowers,
 
full of grave markers written in pen by children.
 
The flowers, in their windswept uncertainty, refuse to bloom.
 
Vagrant crows splash around in the water - in the parking lot of a taxi company.
 
A rusted fence decays along the roadside, almost like this city's laceration scars.
 
Almost like this city's laceration scars.
 
I often say, ''It's too painful, it's too painful'', but there's no time I've ever died from the anguish.
 
This feeling of loneliness is just the perfect amount Almost every day it's just the perfect amount.
 
That's why I dress myself in it, like the jester of a play set in the night sky.
 
Is what's falling stardust, or is it trash?
 
Either way, it's nothing more than rubbish.
 
If going on living is such a bother, then dying once and for all is also a bother.
 
And making these songs is also a bother.
 
All around the world, everything is just a bother.
 
Underneath the billboard of a pornographic movie, a young woman is always waiting for someone.
 
And if she wears her careless ''everyday'' in place of a scarf, her frozen, numb future still won't warm up, and whatever she calls ''dreams'' are just vain idols.
 
But those are the kinds of idols I worship, like an angel fallen from grace. (basically, a person without virtue)
 
''If you wish for something, it will come true! It will come true! It will come true!'' -
 
That's what my guardian angel keeps nagging, but it doesn't do me any good.
 
''The cherry blossoms scatter away, and that's what makes them beautiful''- almost as if they're trying to liken it to human life.
 
If that's just run-of-the-mill romanticism - then it's something I used to hold on to, too.
 
When the flowers scatter away, it brings me to tears.
 
When the flowers bloom, it brings me to tears.
 
Even the end of a long day brings me to tears.
 
And it doesn't make a difference when I point out how depressing that is.
 
If thinking optimistically is such a bother, then thinking pessimistically is a bother too.
 
And falling asleep is a bother too.
 
Each and every little thing is just a bother.
 
Underneath the billboard of a pornographic movie, a young woman is always waiting for someone.
 
Even if she wears these carefree memories as earings, those expressionless days will do nothing but abandon her.
 
If dreams themselves are our last salvation, then I'll go around preaching that like a megalomaniac.
 
''If you wish for something, it will come true! It will come true! It will come true!'' -
 
That's what my guardian angel keeps nagging, me, but it doesn't do me any good.
 
Derisions, like insects, swarm around a town lamp-post, its light of hope flickers on and disappears, and each and every face tries to float up into the light.
 
Even if light were like an unwavering lantern, you can't trust your own speculations - that is to say your resignation.
 
The red color of blood that spills at the brink of surrender - is the red of the evening sky back home, the red certain death in the face of flames.
 
It all flows with so much anguish.
 
And mere time slips away.
 
Is there a sort of empty despair in that?
 
Is there any place to start anew in that?
 
Urderneath the billboard of pornographic movie, a young woman is always waiting for someone.
 
Even if she decorates her flowerpots with her carefree hopes, these dreary days will remain bland and dull, and if dreams themselves are struggle of humankind, then all of our sympathizers will go around preaching that.
 
''If you wish something, it will come true! It will come true! It will come true!'' -
 
That's what my guardian angel keeps nagging me, but it doesn't do me any good.
 
(but it doesn't do me any good...)
 
(but it doesn't do me any good...)
 

amazarashi - Getsuyoubi ''Monday'' (月曜日)

Versions: #2
Monday
 
The smell of moldy urethane in the P.E. storehouse, the court lines separate us clearly.
 
A pigeon is lying dead in the walkway, next to a tidier than usual stream of discarded textbooks.
 
Road side trees bound to supporting stakes, almost like crucifixions made to set an example.
 
Even though they way want to stretch out their branches freely, they seem like they're bound by their identical uniforms.
 
They turn to the right, then look to the left, then they face the other way, like a grammer school line-up.
 
Our immaturity was clearly mean to relieve us, so can you please be theonly one to not grow up?
 
If we were to say no to Mondays, we'd despised and left in the dump, tumbling around and rusting from the tidal breeze.
 
The reason it's so hard for us to breath, is because this isn't a place for us to live.
 
Maybe we're extra-terrestrial life?
 
Saying that you like things that you like, was it always this hard of a thing to do?
 
If that's so, I'll hold my breath and dive in.
 
Even though compared to the depth within your chest, it doesn't even come close at all.
 
Waiting idly at the train station building's concourse, our soft-serve ice cream melted, and every time the drawn-out car horns got closer, I learned more and more that there are so many things that I didn't learn in that off-district school overlooking the river.
 
I hate talking about tomorrow to begin-with, and I hate talking about the future even more.
 
People say they're beautiful because they're fleeting, but I think it would be better if fireworks lasted forever.
 
I pretend that I can't see the things I can see, and I pretend I don't know the things I know.
 
When I think of how much I've grown up without realizing, it's gotten to a point that I can't help but to laugh.
 
If we were to say no to Mondays, and skipped stones on the surface of the river, we could split the full moon's reflection in half.
 
The reason that my chest hurts so much, is that we're sharing the things we think and feel with and feel with each other.
 
Or maybe I'm telepathic?
 
Saying that you dislike the things you don't like, I wonder if that's really such a selfish thing to do?
 
If that's so, I'll hold my breath and dive in.
 
Even though compared to the depth within your chest, it doesn't even come close at all.
 
Since we could neither become normal or ordinary, we at least wanted to become special individuals, but since we couldn't be special individuals either, we at least needed people to accept us.
 
Well that's the case for you, and maybe it's the case for me, and even if we were left behind in trash cans, from my perspective, for a long time already, you've already become special, you know?
 
Well if we were to say no to Mondays,we would just burn up in the atmosphere, and a crater would open up in my chest.
 
We were definitely very similar to each other, but we're just not meant to be identical people.
 
The most terrifying thing to do is say goodbye, so because of that, let's make promise that until the end of time, we'll never leave each other.
 
Even though I know it won't really be the end of time, and the thing I swore, doesn't even come close to how long love and friendship last.
 

Срце у хиљаду свећа

Рашири своја крила, али ти си хтела
Врт друге сенке
Узми за себе небо, али само кроз олује
Молим те немој летети.
А ја ћу бити код куће, а ја ћу бити дугим,
дугим ноћима
У тишини собе
позивима познаника
одговарати „отишла је“
 
Пламеном унутра осветљавам
Таму твојих ноћи,
Неће изгорети, обећавам,
Срце у хиљаду свећа.
 
А ти си била мила, а ти си била мир мој
И рат,
А ти си била поносна, а ја бих све дао,
Да те вратим кући.
А ја ћу бити код куће, а ја ћу бити дугим,
дугим ноћима
У тишини собе
позивима познаника
одговарати „отишла је.“
 
Пламеном унутра осветљавам
Таму твојих ноћи,
Неће изгорети, обећавам,
Срце у хиљаду свећа.
 

Hold Me

(My) love, I dreamed of you once
I dreamed you were the queen and I was the king (2x)
 
I can not imagine that you are not mine
I can not make your paper image
 
Hold me tight please
and if you arrive to hear me crying
it's cuz you need me
 
And I wanted to hold you to see if it was true
that the dream I had was reality
 
And as much as I became strong, the tears rolled
and I told you tenderly hold me my love
 
(repeat)
 

Work out #2

give me autotune
Yeh, ehi!
 
I smoke, i smoke, I'm working out yah
I get back home, phone's off yah
Mom chill out, I'm having fun yah
I stay with the ones that don't mess around yah
Put your phone down, it makes you go crazy
Yes,here, it's the same shit, it ain't your party
My friends wants peace, outside there's war
My State rules you like a puppet
These ones want me outside, I sent them flowers
I'm a little savage, so you fall in love
This was just a glimpse, I've got new powers
My friend says:'Relax, you're going to devour them'
 
'Plaza', you say 'Plaza'
Yeah, my cool boys empty the grocery store
I have a matter on my hands, and no, it has nothing to do with you
My people don't talk to you, so stay away
Yeah, the flow eats you yah
I smoke, I smoke, but I'm always careful
I take a good look behind me
A brother betrayed me yah
Every day's the same, always the same
I don't, I'm not complaining
I'm good where I am bro yah
 
Adidas jumpsuits, packages and boxes yah
You haven't got the pass inside these buildings yah
Not even cranes can move us yah
I eat everything, I don't leave leftovers for you yah
I eat everything, I don't leave leftovers for you yah
Against these bastards always a step forward yah
I run, I run, I run, I'm never going to look back yah
We're savages, crazy gorillas
Plaza champion yeah, out of the classroom
At school I used to play basketball
But I had the master at smoking yah
I'll take everything and I won't thank you
Plaza, yeah, is the champion
Constantly working out yah.
 

amazarashi - Natsu wo matte imashita (夏を待っていました)

Versions: #3
amazarashi - We Were Waiting for Summer
 
Hey, do you still remember that hot June back when we were young?
 
We walked along those abandoned rail tracks as far they would take us.
 
With Masatoshi, excitedly, wearing something like a canteen, bragging about the mountain bike his dad bought him.
 
“But hey, you know, I hate my old man, cause all he ever does is make mom cry.”
 
I was a little embarrassed, and I turned my eyes away, because there was a big bruise on Masatoshi's face.
 
Running through a sudden evening rain, taking shelter in a run-down train station, “What do you want to do tomorrow?” “And the next day?”
 
We rolled around laughing at pointless stories - my chest throbs as I feel a storm coming.
 
Back then, we were all, whithout a doubt, waiting for summer.
 
“I don't want to be here” and “I want to go somewhere”, they both have the same meahing, right? At any hate, let's get going.
 
Yasuhito was terrible at P.E. and sports more than anything else, and at the end of the day, clutching his knee, whispered, “I'm always holding everyone else back... I'm really sorry for being such a worthless friend”
 
For some reason, we all broke out laughing.
 
By the end, even Yasuhito laughed with teary eyes.
 
Playing hide-and-seek in the tall summer grass, waiting for “it” to finish counting, “Are you all ready?”, “No, not yet!” we'd shout.
 
Even now, nobody found found me yet, so I clutched my knees just like I did that day, I looked up at the blue sky from my bedroom, and I waited for summer.
 
Tall in stature and tough in a fight, Taihei was always coming up with ridiculous games: “Whoever can hang from that bridge railing the longest, no matter what they tell us to do, we have do to it!”
 
We were all too scared, and couldn't do it at all, but Taihei hung there with a without breaking a sweat.
 
Seven years later, Taihei jumped off a building.
 
If that's courage, it would have been better if he didn't have it.
 
Now we're playing hide-and-seek in the shadow of high-rise buildings, and I wonder, how long has is been since those days?
 
“Are you all ready?” “No, not yet!” There's no voice calling that out anymore.
 
If today is just a continuation of those days, then I had no choice but to continue my adventure, so I looked up at that June sky, and I waited for summer.
 

amazarashi - Taxi Driver

Versions: #2
Shopping malls, outlets, the melancholy of suburbia, family outings, suffocating crowds, portraits of saints on sweaty T-shirts, gloomy young men buying car-towing rope, planning to hang themselves from the rafters of their houses.
 
What we call suburbs are just cities that can't make up their minds, still hanging out with friends back home, occasionally having a drink, boasting about happiness while felling asphyxiated, the blue, blue sky is so blue that it's practically black.
 
Taxi driver, lament the state of the world with me.
 
Put on a hit song for those whose lives are clouded with their sighs.
 
We'll race down Route 4 with our drunken ramblings, it doesn't matter if it's politically incorrect, just talk to me.
 
An absurd blackness is stuck in the black of my throat, I feel like I'm about to spit out the things I don't want to spit out.
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 
There was a pregnant woman standing tiredly in front of the priority seating, I was furious, but in the end I couldn't say anything.
 
Salarymen were sending out perverse imagens on the screens of their smartphones - all the unpleasantess of the world was consolidated in that train car.
 
A terrorist attack in a far off country and a crime statement - all the things I heard on the taxi radio this morning.
 
From the cab window, the high-rise buildings of Roppongi are so hideous, materialism is all over the place, it's the cornerstone of Tokyo.
 
Taxi driver, can you open up the trunk for me?
 
We have way too much luggage, we can barely walk.
 
The scenery of the city rushing by is far too gaudy, it makes our own happiness seem withered by comparison.
 
I spend all my time and effort fort a single drop of satisfaction, so, let me leave the ''getting home'' part to someone else.
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 
Conflict in the news, jpegs of dead bodys circulating the web, people can become all but demons when they can ignore others' suffering.
 
There are peole who alienate others in the name of tolerance, there are those who ignore conflict in the name of non-violence.
 
To become a bad person, you first have to be a good one, just like how can't run away from home without living there first.
 
Mr. Driver, you've got the best mind of anyone I've met, since you're running with a philosophy built from life experience.
 
Taxi driver, can you roll down the window for me?
 
Get rid of this stale air, and let in the summer breeze.
 
My short and long-term future both have a fairly bad outlook, but there's no way that I can surrender my life to insecurity.
 
When the hell do you think we'll get out of this long tunnel?
 
It doesn't matter, just go ahead and take me as far as you can.
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 

amazarashi - hakisou da ''Nauseated'' (吐きそうだ)

Versions: #2
amazarashi - Nauseated
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
Though I've moved into a new house, I'm still close friends with the western sun.
 
Peace of mind comes once you've settled into a new life, and I'm an uncommitted daydreamer.
 
I remember the landscapes hazily, those old days are like black-and-white photos.
 
I've killed ''me'' so many times, but that bloodstained ''me'' still dwells in my mind.
 
Momentarily reflected in the window at night, his eyes are ghostly and reproachful.
 
''Come back here whenever you'd like''
 
Whenever he says that, it takes so much effort to stay put: talking myself out of my own values, playing with words just to prove him wrong.
 
If you strip off my façade layer by layer, inside my head is an absolutely, loathsome person.
 
That's no surprise.
 
A fully exposed person isn't much different from an animal in the first place.
 
So basically, I'm the only one at fault. How many times has that been the punchline?
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
In an instant, an infinitesimal flash changes our lives.
 
But I think it's wrong to worship that flash like a god.
 
That naive sense of self-worth has bent the knee to reality.
 
And the tune of resentment on our lips has really cut deep.
 
I'm still grateful for that flash, but it's just become an excuse for laziness.
 
By only wanting to lord over those who've treated me like a fool, I've become a show-off, like some kind of vain exhibitionist.
 
At the end of the rat race, we're ashamed of the meaninglessness of such an existence.
 
But in the end, we've all contributed to the intention of the masses.
 
So given that, just get back to claiming to be the cutest, you pack of animals!
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
Life is a desolate breakwater overlooking the shores, rusting in the ocean spray.
 
But calling it so is an aimless way to live, so I'll tack on a half-hearted ''even still''.
 
Nowhere to belong, nowhere to go.
 
Even my soot-stained spirit is beyond my control.
 
I push my heavy legs forward, dragging along the regret of pretending not to have regrets.
 
Stop complaing. Stop whining.
 
Stop dreaming of becoming someone spectacular.
 
Just put up with it. Even if you give it your all and lose your way, don't turn back.
 
Live kindly, with a strong sense of duty.
 
Pay back favours.
 
Don't rack up debt.
 
That's loving selflessly. Is that loving selflessly?
 
Or is that just egotism? God, I hate this!
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.