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Jamala - 1944 versuri lyrics

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1944

When strangers are coming...
They come to your house,
They kill you all
and say,
We’re not guilty
not guilty.
 
Where is your mind?
Humanity cries.
You think you are gods.
But everyone dies.
Don't swallow my soul.
Our souls
 
Yaşlığıma toyalmadım
Men bu yerde yaşalmadım
Yaşlığıma toyalmadım
Men bu yerde yaşalmadım
 
We could build a future
Where people are free
to live and love.
The happiest time.
 
Where is your heart?
Humanity rise.
You think you are gods
But everyone dies.
Don't swallow my soul.
Our souls
 
Yaşlığıma toyalmadım
Men bu yerde yaşalmadım
Yaşlığıma toyalmadım
Men bu yerde yaşalmadım
 
Vatanıma toyalmadım
 

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Poltergeists

Broken, the heart of a lost dream girl
Hopeless to shelter her from the world
 
Who knew the darkness held such ghostly comfort? Ah ah ah~
The voices tell her she was never made to suffer
 
Breathless sighs, my Poltergeist
Broken cries, her lullaby
 
All round the sounds of the winds blight song
grey clouds have been painted for much too long
 
The voice of ages call to her like thunder, Ah ah ah~
They call and cry out loud to raise her from her slumber
 
Breathless sighs, my Poltergeist
Broken cries, her lullaby
 
Ghosts prowl and harvest on their faint hearts,
Keep strong and relent from their cold dark arts
 
She'll keep those souls and espers from their clutches, Ah ah ah~
For walls of ashes hide and shroud this darkened dutchess
 
Breathless sighs, my Poltergeist
Broken cries, her lullaby
 
Breathless sighs, my Poltergeist
Broken cries, her lullaby
 

Lofty Lowly Servants

The king wears a crown
The pope wears a meiter
A king is a self-guided ruler
A pope, a lowly shepherd
Though attired in lofty gown
Hope, the prospective lighter
 
The king is the fooler
The pope is the wiser
One is high, so to stumble
The other, lowly and humble
Majestic might so far, so very dear
The other so distant, yet ever so near
 
Humility is the realm of regality
Kindness given graciously
Not of station or vocation
Seen beyond all intention
By God's goodness for man
Given unceasingly so we understand
 

Man's Rest

You can say I'm mad
You can say I'm crazy
But I'm only as bad
As the maker who made me

Sinner in the darkness
Liar in the church
Deaf man's silence
The blind man's search

Teardrop falling
Memory recalling
Ghost in your dreams
And your secret recordings

Mad man's matches
Lump in your throat
The pea under your mattress
The hole in your coat

Singer with the sound down
Winner on the come down
Poet in the overcoat
Looking for a suntan

On his birthday
Prisoner on his first day
Tired of the new wave

I rise to meet you
As your trust dissolves to shame
Oh, this innocence has turned and lost its way
Retrace the footprints
Off the path from which I came
I'm the beast in you, the beast in me

(Which way are we going?
The doors close in an hour)

You can say I'm mad
You can say I'm crazy
But I'm only as bad
As the maker who made me

Needle for the user
The pain in your chest
Beggar and the chooser
The wicked man's rest

Fear in the stuntman
Sneer in the playground
Bottle in the hand
Of a dirty old drunk man

Leaf falling
Autumn calling
Dark clouds forming

I rise to meet you
As your trust dissolves to shame
Oh, this innocence has turned and lost its way
Retrace the footprints
Off the path from which I came
I'm the beast in you, the beast in me

Bite my nails
Right down to the skin
Where one trust ends
And another lie begins

Patch over holes
In my weakened heart
Which angels hold
And devils pull apart

I'm the beast in you
The beast in me
The bitterness, the jealousy
The part of you that never sleeps

(Are you my angel?
Will we walk all night through solitary streets?)

And you hardly can imagine
What you never had before
And the reason that you're given
Still leaves you wanting more

I rise to meet you
As your trust dissolves to shame
Oh, this innocence has turned and lost its way
Retrace the footprints
Off the path from which I came
I'm the beast in you, the beast in me
The bitterness, the jealousy
The part of you that never sleeps

Try to align

Ghicit în cafea

Milord,
nu se mai poate concura,
ceşcuţa japoneză este spartă
şi-n zaţul ăsta negru de cafea
a apărut un câine rău la poartă.
 
Tu crezi că muschetarii vor veni
cu trei florete mari la butonieră
să-ţi spună că un nou poète maudit
s-a spânzurat aseară de jartieră.
 
Eroarea stă în movul cardinal
în care Lorelei s-a deghizat
când un pescar beţiv dormea-n canal,
visându-se un Tigru Eufrat.
 
Eşti osândit, Milord, să îţi cultivi
în fiecare zi muşcata roză
în raiuri caste printre şerpi naivi,
cu talpa-ţi netezeşti apoteoză.
 
Mai mult ce rege şi-ar putea visa,
când în triunghi s-a-ntunecat fereastra ?
Milord,
nu se mai poate concura,
dă-ţi haina jos, pune-o-n cuier şi basta.