kuzjavyj: (tipa zadumchivyj)
Now I lay me down to sleep
I hear the sirens in the street
All my dreams are made of chrome
I have no way to get back home
Tom Waits, Blue Valentine, A sweet little bullet from a pretty blue gun

kuzjavyj: (Default)
А еще оказалось, что The Last Rose of Summer, которой заканчивается Черный всадник, это очень старая ирландская песня.

Tom Waits
The Last Rose of Summer
The Black Rider

I love the way
The tattered clouds
Go wind across the sky

As summer goes
And leave me
With a tear in my eye

I'm taking out my winter clothes
My garden knows what's wrong
The petals of my favorite rose
Be in the shadows dark and long

Through every year
It's very clear
I should be used
To carrying on
But I can't be found
IN the garden
Singing this song

When the last
Rose of summer is gone

Thomas Moore
Tis the Last Rose of Summer
Air — Groves of Blarney

'TIS the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone:
No flower of her kindred,
No rose-bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love's shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie wither'd,
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?

kuzjavyj: (Default)

У Тома Вэйтса в Черном Всаднике песенка:

... I don't know how long it has been
But I was born in Brennan's Glenn
And near the end of spring there grows
A briar and a rose

I picked the rose one early morn
I pricked my finger on a thorn
It had grown so high
It's winding wove the briar around the rose

I tried to tear them both apart
I felt a bullet in my heart
And all dressed up in a springs new clothes
The briar and the rose

And when I am buried in my grave
Tell me so I will know
You tears will fall
To make love grow
The briar and the rose...

и так далее.

А в английских балладах так:

... Lord William was buried in St.Marie's kirk,
Lady Margaret in Marie's quire;
Out o' the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose
And out o'the knight's a briar

Или так:

...Fair Margaret dyed to-day, to-day,
Sweet William dyed the morrow;
Fair Margaret dyed for pure true love
Sweet William dyed for sorrow

Margaret was buryed in lower chancel,
And William in the higher:
Out of her brest there sprung a rose,
And out of his a briar

They grew till they grew unto the church top
And then they could grow no higher;
And there they tyed in a true lover's knot
Which made all the people admire

Then came the clerk of the parish,
As you the truth should hear,
And by misfortune cut them down
Or they had now been there.


kuzjavyj: (Default)

March 2012

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