Music of me и други забавни аргументи

[emilgrigorov]

Който ми твърди, че съществува такова понятие, като превод на поезия, има много здраве от мен

[emilgrigorov]

2.

A long time ago came a man on a track
Walking thirty miles with a pack on his back
And he put down his load where he thought it was the best
Made a home in the wilderness
He built a cabin and a winter store
And he ploughed up the ground by the cold lake shore
And the other travellers came riding down the track
And they never went further, no, they never went back
Then came the churches then came the schools
Then came the lawyers then came the rules
Then came the trains and the trucks with their loads
And the dirty old track was the telegraph road
Then came the mines - then came the ore
Then there was the hard times then there was a war
Telegraph sang a song about the world outside
Telegraph road got so deep and so wide
Like a rolling river. . .
And my radio says tonight it's gonna freeze
People driving home from the factories
There's six lanes of traffic
Three lanes moving slow. . .
I used to like to go to work but they shut it down
I got a right to go to work but there's no work here to be found
Yes and they say we're gonna have to pay what's owed
We're gonna have to reap from some seed that's been sowed
And the birds up on the wires and the telegraph poles
They can always fly away from this rain and this cold
You can hear them singing out their telegraph code
All the way down the telegraph road
You know I'd sooner forget but I remember those nights
When life was just a bet on a race between the lights
You had your head on my shoulder you had your hand in my hair
Now you act a little colder like you don't seem to care
But believe in me baby and I'll take you away
From out of this darkness and into the day
From these rivers of headlights these rivers of rain
From the anger that lives on the streets with these names
'cos I've run every red light on memory lane
I've seen desperation explode into flames
And I don't want to see it again. . .
From all of these signs saying sorry but we're closed
All the way down the telegraph road

[emilgrigorov]

3.


Veronica verrai...
Leggera come quando te ne vai
C'e un'elica in te...
Che ti riporta qui...
Da me

Veronica verrai...
A coltivare canapa a Shangai
Se te lo chiedero...
Veronica verrai...
Io so
Veronica Veronica Veronica verrai
E lascerai quell'uomo e il suo museo
Piu povera che mai...
Vestita solo di...
Un pareo
Veronica vedrai...
Non ci ameremo piu part-time
Se te lo chiedero...
Veronica verrai...
Lo so

Dimenticando ogni prudenza come un lupo in astinenza
Alla mia porta busserai ed in mia assenza tu mi aspetterai
Osservatrice come sei spiata un po' ti sentirai

Dal mio ritratto sul como ed da I che io ti appariro
Lo so che tu lo sai...
Tu sai che io lo so
Io so che tu lo sai e tu lo sai che io lo so Veronica non dir di no

Tu sai che io lo so e io lo so che tu lo sai
Il cuore tira piu di cento buoi
Adesso te ne vai
Ma quando ti vorro...
Verrai

Tu sei la complico ideale che durante il temporale
Viene a rifugiarsi qui nel mio capanno degli attrezzi
Ma io ti voglio piu solare... piu disposta a camminare
Per la strada e sul metro... davanti a tutti io ti abbraccero
Lo so che tu lo sai...
Tu sai che io lo so
Lo so che tu lo sai e tu lo sai che io lo so
Veronica non dir di no
Lo so che tu lo sai...
Tu sai che io lo so
Lo so che tu lo sai e tu lo sai che io lo so
Veronica non dir...
Veronica non dir...
Veronica non dir...
Di no!

[emilgrigorov]

4.

[emilgrigorov]

5.

[emilgrigorov]

My love is in league with the freeway
It's passion will ride, as the cities fly by
And the tail-lights dissolve, in the coming of night
And the questions in thousands take flight
My love is the miles and the waiting
The eyes that just stare, and a glance at the clock
And the secret that burns, and the pain that won't stop
And it's fuel is the years
Leading me on
Leading me down the road
Driving me on, driving me down the road
My love is exceeding the limit
Red-eyed and fevered with the hum of the miles
Distance and longing, my thoughts do collide
Should I rest for a while, on the side
Your love is cradled in knowing
Eyes in the mirror, still expecting they'll come
Sensing to well, when the journey is done
There is no turning back, no There is no turning back, on the run.
My love is in league with the freeway
Oh, the freeway, and the coming of night-time My love,
My love, Is in league with the freeway.

Big Log by Robert Plant

[emilgrigorov]

7.

............ 7.1. .........7.2. .........7.3. .........7.4. ..........7.5.

[emilgrigorov]

8.

В живота всичко може да се направи три начина: или така, или иначе, или по другия начин

[emilgrigorov]

9.

[emilgrigorov]

10.

Little by little the night turns around.
Counting the leaves which tremble at dawn.
Lotuses lean on each other in yearning.
Under the eaves the swallow is resting.
Set the controls for the heart of the sun.

Over the mountain watching the watcher.
Breaking the darkness
Waking the grapevine.
One inch of love is one inch of shadow
Love is the shadow that ripens the wine.
Set the controls for the heart of the sun.
The heart of the sun, the heart of the sun.

Witness the man who raves at the wall
Making the shape of his questions to Heaven.
Whether the sun will fall in the evening
Will he remember the lesson of giving?
Set the controls for the heart of the sun.
The heart of the sun, the heart of the sun...

Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun
Pink Floyd

[nk7702n]

[emilgrigorov]

12.

[emilgrigorov]

13.

[nk7702n]

Супер, сега остава да кажеш от всички изброени коя е най - функционална и защо?
Аааааааа, ето и едната собственичка на МПС - то пристигна

П.П. Сега ще настане спор защо някой и е ожулил и изкривил метлата...

[nk7702n]

Нищо, поне на паркинга не се очаква при спора употреба на оръжие или ръкопашен бой. Или други нетрадиционни похвати като този :
http://www.flagman.bg/%D0%BD%D0%BE%D0%B ... 0%BD%D0%B5

[emilgrigorov]

14.

[nk7702n]

15.

[emilgrigorov]

16.

[emilgrigorov]

17.
В Министерството на външните работи, в асансьор се возят българин и американец. Внезапно асансьорът засяда между етажите. В това време нашенецът го присвива корема и казва на американеца:
- Братле, аз ще клекна тук в ъгъла, а ти се обърни.
Американецът се обръща, изважда кутия Маrlbоrо и пали цигара.
Българинът се обажда от ъгъла:
- У нас в асансьорите не се пуши

[nk7702n]

18.