Альбом Joan Baez

I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station running scared
Laying low,
Seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
Lie la lie ...

Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare,
There were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
Lie la lie ...

Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters
Aren't bleeding me
leading me, going home
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains
Lie la lie ...

It won't be easy, you'll think it strange
When I try to explain how I feel
But I still need your love after all that I've done.

You won't believe me
All you will see is a girl you once knew
Although she's dressed up to the nines
At sixes and sevens with you.

I had to let it happen, I had to change
Couldn't stay all my life down at heel
Looking out of the window, staring out of the sun.

So I chose freedom
Running around, trying everything new
But nothing impressed me at all
I never expected it to.

Don't cry for me Argentina
The truth is I never left you
All through my wild days
My mad existence
I kept my promise
Don't keep your distance.

And as for fortune, and as for fame
I never invited them in
Though it seemed to the world they were all I desired.

They are illusions
They are not the solutions they promised to be
The answer was here all the time
I love you and hope you love me.

Don't cry for me Argentina …

Don't cry for me Argentina …

Gracias A La Vida
(Violeta Parra)

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me dio dos luceros, que cuando los abro,
Perfecto distingo lo negro del blanco
Y en el alto cielo su fondo estrellado
Y en las multitudes el hombre que yo amo.

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me ha dado el oído que en todo su ancho
Graba noche y día, grillos y canarios,
Martillos, turbinas, ladridos, chubascos,
Y la voz tan tierna de mi bien amado.

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me ha dado el sonido y el abecedario;
Con él las palabras que pienso y declaro:
Madre, amigo, hermano, y luz alumbrando
La ruta del alma del que estoy amando.

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me ha dado la marcha de mis pies cansados;
Con ellos anduve ciudades y charcos,
Playas y desiertos, montañas y llanos,
Y la casa tuya, tu calle y tu patio.

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me dio el corazón que agita su marco
Cuando miro el fruto del cerebro humano,
Cuando miro al bueno tan lejos del malo,
Cuando miro al fondo de tus ojos claros.

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me ha dado la risa y me ha dado el llanto.
Así yo distingo dicha de quebranto,
Los dos materiales que forman mi canto,
Y el canto de ustedes que es mi mismo canto,
Y el canto de todos que es mi propio canto.
Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.

[Нет текста]

On a wagon bound for market
there's a calf with a mournful eye.
High above him there's a swallow,
winging swiftly through the sky.

Chorus:
How the winds are laughing,
they laugh with all their might.
Laugh and laugh the whole day through,
and half the summer's night.
Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna; Donna, Donna, Donna, Don.
Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna; Donna, Donna, Donna, Don.

"Stop complaining!" said the farmer,
"Who told you a calf to be ?
Why don't you have wings to fly with,
like the swallow so proud and free?"

Chorus:
How the winds are laughing,
they laugh with all their might.
Laugh and laugh the whole day through,
and half the summer's night.
Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna; Donna, Donna, Donna, Don.
Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna; Donna, Donna, Donna, Don.

Calves are easily bound and slaughtered,
never knowing the reason why.
But whoever treasures freedom,
like the swallow has learned to fly.

Chorus:
How the winds are laughing,
they laugh with all their might.
Laugh and laugh the whole day through,
and half the summer's night.
Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna; Donna, Donna, Donna, Don.
Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna; Donna, Donna, Donna, Don.

Well I'll be damned
Here comes your ghost again
But that's not unusual
It's just that the moon is full
And you happened to call
And here I sit
Hand on the telephone
Hearing a voice I'd known
A couple of light years ago
Heading straight for a fall

As I remember your eyes
Were bluer than robin's eggs
My poetry was lousy you said
Where are you calling from?
A booth in the midwest
Ten years ago
I bought you some cufflinks
You brought me something
We both know what memories can bring
They bring diamonds and rust

Well you burst on the scene
Already a legend
The unwashed phenomenon
The original vagabond
You strayed into my arms
And there you stayed
Temporarily lost at sea
The Madonna was yours for free
Yes the girl on the half-shell
Would keep you unharmed

Now I see you standing
With brown leaves falling around
And snow in your hair
Now you're smiling out the window
Of that crummy hotel
Over Washington Square
Our breath comes out white clouds
Mingles and hangs in the air
Speaking strictly for me
We both could have died then and there

Now you're telling me
You're not nostalgic
Then give me another word for it
You who are so good with words
And at keeping things vague
Because I need some of that vagueness now
It's all come back too clearly
Yes I loved you dearly
And if you're offering me diamonds and rust
I've already paid

jari ya hamouda... hamouuda
ya jari daber aâliya yamma...
ya jari daber aâliya yamma
ness tebet ergouda ergouda.. ergouuda
wani noumi mahroum aâliya yamma..
wenni enoume ma7roume 3laia ya ma..

li mcha3ali nari yamma..
EnHamouda ya jari.. ya jarii
Enta ti li mcha3ali nari yammaa
Tmanitek fi dari.. fi darii

Mithli el cham3a ettol aaleya yamma..
Mithli el cham3a ettol aaleya yammaa

Refrain

Awel marra ritou.. ah ritou
Dekhel galbi khabitou yamma..
Dekhel galbi khabitou yammaa
Haneni Hanitou.. Hanitouu
Sametou laaziz aal galb yamma..
Sametou laaziz aala galbi yammaa

Refrain

We've watched them leaving, seen their ragged flight
Children of the jungle, mothers of the night
A boy of ten by the roadside lies
Hears his future in whispers and cries
And clutching a tiny Buddha charm
A baby dies in his mother's arms

Is there only sorrow in Cambodia?
Is there no tomorrow in Cambodia?

Leaving the graves of your ancestors after a thousand years
Leaving a few belongings after a thousand tears
How come you never left before through bombing, famine and flood?
Are the rivers useless now spilling over with blood?

Is there only sorrow in Cambodia?
Is there no tomorrow in Cambodia?

I hear there are very few children from ages one to five
It takes more than jungle leaves to keep the young ones alive
I hear some of the rice got through the outside's trying to send to you
There you sit in the ruins of war, the doctors are waiting at your door

And we will try and feed you, try and go to you
People of Kampuchea, Cambodia

A little way in from the border in the crowded camps
I've seen mothers giving birth, seen beautiful orphans dance
An old man turns and covers his eyes, he was never supposed to cry
With sons and daughters and home and wife
Taken from him in his autumn life

Should we try and feed you, say hello to you
Old man of Kampuchea, Kampuchea, Cambodia

Call another conference, write another song
Deliver another ton of rice and hope it gets where it belongs
And rival teams of bandits are really the only choice
Even if the people had their bellies filled, even if the people had a voice

And meanwhile, lovers are caught in the crossfire
Children are caught in the barbed wire
Military sinks in the mire
Let me show it to you

Is there only sorrow, only sorrow in Cambodia?
Is there no tomorrow, no tomorrow in Cambodia?
Still we'll try and feed you, try and show to you
People of Kampuchea, Kampuchea, Cambodia

Поднявший меч на наш союз
достоин будет худшей кары.
И я за жизнь его тогда
не дам и самой ломаной гитары.
Как вожделенно жаждет век
нащупать брешь у нас в цепочке...
Возьмемся за руки, друзья,
друзья, возьмемся за руки,
чтоб не пропасть поодиночке.

Среди совсем чужих пиров
и слишком ненадежных истин,
не дожидаясь похвалы,
мы перья белые свои почистим.
Пока безумный наш султан
сулит дорогу нам к острогу,
возьмемся за руки, друзья,
возьмемся за руки, друзья,
возьмемся за руки, ей-богу.

Когда ж придет дележки час,
не нас калач ржаной поманит,
и рай настанет не для нас,
зато Офелия всех нас помянет.
Пока не грянула пора
нам отправляться понемногу,
возьмемся за руки, друзья,
возьмемся за руки, друзья,
возьмемся за руки, ей-богу.

Here's to you, Nicola and Bart
Rest forever here in our hearts
The last and final moment is yours
That agony is your triumph

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
How many seas must the white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
How many times must the cannonballs fly
Before they're forever banned?

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it's washed to the sea?
How many years must some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
And how many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn't see?

The answer
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind

How many times can a man look up
Before he sees the sky?
How many ears must one person have
Before he can hear people cry?
And how many deaths will it take 'til he knows
That too many people have died?

The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind

Oh, the answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind