Gérard Manset - Camion bâché Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

Covered truck

Truck in the night
Covered truck
Like a released balloon
Illusions, hopes
And blood stained
Straps tied-down
No more desire
In this loathed world
Nothing to say
Drive in the darkness
Hit by dreams
On the waysides
Of desperation
 
Truck in the darkness
Drives away this evening
And will not come back
In the back seat
Of black leatherette
A child breathes
 
A fair-eyed girl
With frail limbs
Sleeps in a cloth
Like an angel feather
In a flannel blanket
Fallen from heavens
 
And in the rhythm of axles
The awful din
Of the iron truck
*
Truck in the night
What do you know about him
About what he leaves once again
Sad settings
The rest has been crushed
When the world is sick
What is left to him
Is the shape that sleeps
In a blanket
On the rugged seat
She's the only figure
The only landscape
Standing like a mirage
The face of the angel
That sleeps in her flannel blanket
Fallen from heavens
 
And in the rhythm of axles
The awful din
Of the iron truck
Truck...
 
All that is left to him
When the world is sick
Is the shape that sleeps
 
Truck in the night
Armored truck
For so many years
So many low blows
Without lights and masts
Lanterns torn
Truck rolls away
From a loathed world
History will tell
What should be remembered
On an acacia tree trunk
Tires howling
Windows bursting
 
Crushed truck
And in his notebook
Three more lines
Three crossed-off words
The three words of a drowned man
Whose body is recovered
During a moonless night
One hand through
The brown curls
On the angel's forehead
In her flannel blanket
Fallen from heavens
 
And in the rhythm of axles
The awful din
Of the iron truck
 
Truck in the night
Smashed truck
Iridescent windows
Strewing the ground
In a sunken lane
Crushing the hand
From which the soul escapes
Still breathing
As if bewitched
Stroking the body
And the grey nape
Of the crushed adult neck
Where the bones are smashed
In the covered truck
Front burst open
Through which the wind edges
And dries up
The child's forehead
Moistened with tears
 
In the covered truck
Front burst open
Through which wind edges
And dries up
The child's forehead
Moistened with tears
 
Sanctified truck
Picked up off the ground
Straight towards the sky
The rest erased
The tree opened
In the middle
Passenger compartment open
On the green carpet
Of painless moss
The fair-haired angel
Looks at her father
Who keeps driving
 
Truck in the night
Truck
Truck
Truck
Truck
Truck
 


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