Marcel Proust - La Madeleine 1 Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

Translation

The madeleine 1

It had been many years already
that, from Combray,
anything that wasn't the drama of my going to bed
did not exist anymore,
when, one day in winter,
as I was coming home,
my mother, seeing I was cold,
offered me to take,
against my habit,
some tea.

I first declined,
but then, I don't know why, I changed my mind.
She made someone go and fetch
one of those pastries, small and soft, that are called 'Petites Madeleines',
which seem to have been molded
in the grooved valve of a scallop.

And soon, mechanically,
weary by the dreary day
and by the foreseeing of another one alike,
I brought to my lips one spoon of tea
where I had let a small piece of madeleine soften.

But then, in that very instant,
when the sip with mingled crumbles of the pastries touched my palate,
I shuddered,
with my awareness directed at the extraordinary that was happening inside me.

A delicious pleasure had invaded me,
isolated, without the concept of its cause.

It had made all vicissitudes of life become indifferent to me,
its disasters were harmful,
its transience chimerical,
in the same way that love proceeds,
filling me with a precious essence:
or, rather, that essence was not in me,
it was me.
I no longer felt mediocre, accidental, mortal.

Wherefrom did this powerful bliss come?
I sensed it had something to do with the taste of tea with pastry,
but that it was outreaching it infinitly,
it could not be of the same nature.
Where was it from?
What did it mean?
Where to apprehend it?

I drink a second sip
where I cannot find anything more than in the first one,
a third one which brings me even less than the second one.
It's about time for me to stop,
the virtue1 of the beverage seems to dissipate.

It is clear that the truth I am looking for
is not in it,
but in me.
It awoke her2,
but it doesn't know her,
and it can only repeat indefinitely,
with less and less strength,
this very testimony that I fail to interprete,
and that I want to be able to find anew,
in the drink, still available, later
for the final elucidation.

I put back the cup and direct towards my mind.
He3 is the one I shall find the truth from.
But how?
Great uncertainty,
Every time that the mind
Feels overwhelmed by himself

Још текстова песама из овог уметника: Marcel Proust

Сви текстови песама на овој веб локацији су само за личну и образовну употребу.

Сви текстови песама су власништво и ауторска права њихових власника или власника.

Више лирицс транслатионс

Konets Solnechnykh Dney - куда катится моя голова? (kuda katit·sya moya golova?) Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

07.11.2024

Where's my head going?

I've forgotten everything I once loved.
And I have nothing left to look forward to
I don't want anything, and I don't want to hear your voice
I've lost my strength
Sober thoughts, tired body
I'm so sleepy
A hard morning and a hundred tries to make sense of it all.

Maybe I'm starting to go crazy.
I can't sleep again till morning
I've got a lot on my mind
Maybe I'm starting to go crazy.
Where's my head going?

Konets Solnechnykh Dney - искусство за 100 (skit) (iskusstvo za 100 (skit)) Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

07.11.2024

Art for 100 (skit)

All my hopes are in shreds
Hundreds of empty dreams
I want so much to believe it's not serious
I can run away from the sun
Or hide from the rain
But no matter how hard I try
I can't run away from myself

Konets Solnechnykh Dney - кажется, я устал (kazhet·sya, ya ustal) Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

07.11.2024

I think I'm tired.

I feel like I'm tired
And I'm dragging myself down a little bit at a time.
Why is everything in spite of me again?
Not a single thing is finished
I feel like I'm tired
I feel like I'm going downhill a little bit.
Why is it all in spite of me again?
There's nothing to be done

Strange thoughts timidly escort me to the dawn.
Who can tell me how it happened?
Why is it burning inside?
Through the stupefaction, I wish I could realize something more than a shadow.
I wish I could realize something more than a shadow.
There's a lot of lies
And it can be hard
not to be deceived or to lie to your face.
Time takes its toll
I'd have given up a long time ago
But I'm in trouble

I feel like I'm tired
And I'm dragging myself down a little bit at a time.
Why is everything in spite of me again?
Not a single thing is finished
I feel like I'm tired
I feel like I'm going downhill a little bit.
Why is it all in spite of me again?
Not one thing is finished

I think I'm tired
I think I'm tired
I think I'm tired

Konets Solnechnykh Dney - мне никогда не было весело с тобой (mne nikogda ne bylo veselo s toboy) Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

07.11.2024

I've never had fun with you

I've never had fun with you.
And if you ever thought I was yours.
you were wrong, I don't care about you
And I don't care about people like you
You said I was different from them
You were wrong again, I'm not like the others.
I'm very simple and I'm not a hero.
I'll never be different

We have serious music, but...
Die.
Die, you bastard! Bastard...
Russian