Михаил Щербаков - Парижанка
текст песни
29
0 человек. считает текст песни верным
0 человек считают текст песни неверным
Михаил Щербаков - Парижанка - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
- Текст
- Перевод
Я очень ясно вижу, я чувствую нутром,
Как с нею по Парижу мы запросто рванем.
А также мне сдается, что, глядючи на нас,
От зависти загнется весь ихний Монпарнас.
Хоть справа глянь, хоть слева - один сплошной плезир.
Она ж чиста, как Ева, прохладна, как пломбир.
И вся одета в смелых таких полутонах,
А я при этом в белых штиблетах и штанах.
И если, скажем, будет тяжелым мой карман,
Тогда мы с ней, как люди, зайдем в кафе-шантан.
Купив, совсем случайно фиалковый букет,
Найдем черезвычайно отдельный кабинет.
Допустим, предположим, а вдруг, а может быть,
Что там как раз мы сможем себя уединить.
По глянцевому краю, шурша, пройдет игла,
И тут же заиграет пластинка из угла.
Одну из тех мелодий, что так приятны нам,
Чего-нибудь навроде тирья-тирья-тирьям.
Потянет, одурманит под аккомпанемент,
И вот, глядишь, настанет решительный момент.
Но, может, и случится, чего я так боюсь:
Внезапно омрачится наш радужный союз,
Красоток всего мира единая черта -
Попрет из-под плезира рязанская туфта.
И вдруг она как ахнет: Ах нет, ах нет, ах нет!
Понюхайте, как пахнет фиалковый букет!
Подскочит, отвернется - по-своему права.
И мне уже придется подыскивать слова.
Потом-то все, наверно, окончится о'кей!
Но сколько ж надо нервов! У нас и то ловчей.
До боли мне знакома вся эта благодать.
Опять же, будь я дома, я знал бы, что сказать.
У нас бы я не стал бы терзать мадмуазель.
Подумаешь, - сказал бы, - какая цитадель!
Сказал бы, мол не жалко! Возьмите ваш платок!
Но это ж парижанка! а Запад - не Восток.
Кругом - одни загадки, того гляди - сгоришь.
Поэтому, ребятки, не еду я в Париж!
Пою красивым басом и дергаю струну,
Все крепче с каждым часом любя свою страну.
Хожу по Конотопу среди родимых стен
И не стремлюсь в Европу. На кой она мне хрен!
Хоть губы ваши жарки, спокоен я вполне.
Прощайте, парижанки, скучайте обо мне.
I see very clearly, I feel with a gut
As with her in Paris, we easily tear.
And it also seems to me that, look at us,
The whole Montparnas will bend with envy.
Though look on the right, even at the left - one solid Plesir.
She is clean, like Eve, cool, like a seal.
And all are dressed in the brave such halftones,
And at the same time I am in white pins and pants.
And if, say, my pocket will be heavy,
Then we, like people, will go to the Cafe Shang.
Having bought, quite by accident, a violet bouquet,
We will find a separate office through it.
Suppose, suppose, what if, maybe, maybe
That there is just we will be able to seclude ourselves.
On a glossy edge, rustling, a needle will pass,
And then the plate will play from the corner.
One of those melodies that are so pleasant for us,
Something like Tiria-Tiria-Tirim.
Pulls, dummers under the accompaniment,
And now, you see, a decisive moment will come.
But maybe it will happen, which I'm so afraid of:
Suddenly our rainbow union is clouded,
Beauties of the whole world a single feature -
The Ryazan bullshit will trample from under Plesir.
And suddenly she gasped: oh no, oh no, oh no!
Smell how the violet bouquet smells!
It will jump, turn away - in its own way.
And I will have to look for words.
Then everything will probably end O'Kay!
But how many nerves do you need! We have a rack.
All this grace is familiar to me pain.
Again, if I were at home, I would know what to say.
Here I would not have tormented Madmoiselle.
Just think, ”he would say,“ what a citadel! ”
I would say, they say it is not a pity! Take your scarf!
But this is a Parisian! And the West is not the East.
Around - only riddles, look - burn.
Therefore, guys, I'm not going to Paris!
I sing with a beautiful bass and pull the string,
Everything is stronger with every hour loving your country.
I go along Konotop among my birthday walls
And I do not strive to Europe. Why is she fucking me!
Though your lips are frying, I am quite calm.
Farewell, Parisians, miss me.
As with her in Paris, we easily tear.
And it also seems to me that, look at us,
The whole Montparnas will bend with envy.
Though look on the right, even at the left - one solid Plesir.
She is clean, like Eve, cool, like a seal.
And all are dressed in the brave such halftones,
And at the same time I am in white pins and pants.
And if, say, my pocket will be heavy,
Then we, like people, will go to the Cafe Shang.
Having bought, quite by accident, a violet bouquet,
We will find a separate office through it.
Suppose, suppose, what if, maybe, maybe
That there is just we will be able to seclude ourselves.
On a glossy edge, rustling, a needle will pass,
And then the plate will play from the corner.
One of those melodies that are so pleasant for us,
Something like Tiria-Tiria-Tirim.
Pulls, dummers under the accompaniment,
And now, you see, a decisive moment will come.
But maybe it will happen, which I'm so afraid of:
Suddenly our rainbow union is clouded,
Beauties of the whole world a single feature -
The Ryazan bullshit will trample from under Plesir.
And suddenly she gasped: oh no, oh no, oh no!
Smell how the violet bouquet smells!
It will jump, turn away - in its own way.
And I will have to look for words.
Then everything will probably end O'Kay!
But how many nerves do you need! We have a rack.
All this grace is familiar to me pain.
Again, if I were at home, I would know what to say.
Here I would not have tormented Madmoiselle.
Just think, ”he would say,“ what a citadel! ”
I would say, they say it is not a pity! Take your scarf!
But this is a Parisian! And the West is not the East.
Around - only riddles, look - burn.
Therefore, guys, I'm not going to Paris!
I sing with a beautiful bass and pull the string,
Everything is stronger with every hour loving your country.
I go along Konotop among my birthday walls
And I do not strive to Europe. Why is she fucking me!
Though your lips are frying, I am quite calm.
Farewell, Parisians, miss me.
Другие песни исполнителя: