Всего лишь 2 парня - Kamikadze
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Всего лишь 2 парня - Kamikadze - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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Затёртый альбом,
годами запылён,
бабочка на нём,
живёт единственным днём.
Сын держит образ отца,
Добровольца, юного молодца.
Помнит, как в детстве ходили в театр Кабуки,
Как отец не терпел громкие звуки.
Его руки воздвигнули дом у реки.
Летом собирали в поле цветы.
И мечты юного папы стать географом
Царапал на парте тонким иероглифом
Как-то странно, а бабочка всё порхала.
Жили на острове Окинава.
Наслаждался жизнью маленький Року,
Отец, мама, сестрёнка Миноку.
Однажды папа ушёл в новобранцы,
Просто он был камикадзе.
И вновь ветра богов заполонили, расчертили высоту.
Не слышно больше голосов и люди души отдают.
Перед глазами пронеслась событий больно полоса,
Оставив след обид, бесстрашия и гордости отца.
Божественный ветер, а на Родине остались дети,
Жены, проклинающие письма в конверте.
На рассвете сидел Року в ясном свете,
Порция печали в его лепете.
Это так страшно вдыхать в себя последние минуты.
Быть живым, но уже почти мёртвым,
Обречённым, по доброй воле заключённым,
В преданность посвящённым,
Как сталь быть закалённым.
В последний раз стране долг отдать.
Малышей обнять,
Любимую красавицу жену поцеловать.
Свой дом покинуть.
Воспоминания выкинуть.
Прошлое забыть.
Отчаяние подавить.
Объяснить детям, когда вернётся папа
И вернётся ли когда-то,
Как-то так-то.
Очень сладко,
Пьянила бабочка внимание сладко, сладко, сладко…
И смерти пронеслась волна по заколдованным морям.
Напишут в письмах, что героями погибли, матерям.
Затихнет в ужасе беспомощно великая страна.
Так что же ты неразрешимая наделала, война.
В этот знойный полдень Року смотрел на дерево,
Застыл во времени.
Прошлое било по темени.
Воображал, что ствол – это дом,
Ветви – комнаты, а цветы – люди, живущие в нём.
Подул ветер, опал лепесток,
Так и папу засыпал песок.
В заплечный мешок сложил альбом,
Привстал, вдохнул и неспешно пошёл.
Если души и вправду переселяются,
Так кто же папа? Року удивляется,
Дух мается в поисках ответа.
На дворе давно уже жаркое лето.
Как канарейка в клетке
Грусть бьёт метко.
Марионетка, упавшая на землю монетка.
И лишь бабочка летала с ветки на ветку,
Но Року не понял, кто же была эта...
И вновь ветра богов заполонили, расчертили высоту.
Не слышно больше голосов и люди души отдают.
Перед глазами пронеслась событий больно полоса,
Оставив след обид, бесстрашия и гордости отца.
И смерти пронеслась волна по заколдованным морям.
Напишут в письмах, что героями погибли, матерям.
Затихнет в ужасе беспомощно великая страна.
Так что же ты неразрешимая наделала, война.
Grated album,
It has been dusty for years,
butterfly on it,
Lives the only day.
The son holds the image of his father
Volunteer, young man.
He remembers how they went to the Kabuki Theater in childhood,
Like a father did not tolerate loud sounds.
His hands erected a house by the river.
In the summer, flowers were collected in the field.
And the dreams of young dad become a geographer
Scratched on the desk with a thin hieroglyph
Somehow strange, and the butterfly fluttered everything.
We lived on the island of Okinawa.
I enjoyed the life of little rock,
Father, mom, sister Minoku.
Once dad went to the recruits
He was just Kamikadze.
And again the winds of the gods were filled, drawn height.
No more votes are heard and people give the soul.
A strip of events flashed before my eyes,
Leaving a trace of resentment, fearlessness and pride of the father.
Divine wind, and children remained in their homeland,
Wives curse in an envelope.
At dawn I sat in a clear light,
A portion of sadness in his sculpting.
It is so scary to inhale the last minutes.
Be alive, but almost dead,
Doomed, by goodwill, prisoners,
In devotion to the initiates,
How steel be hardened.
The last time the country is to pay a debt.
Hug the kids,
Favorite beauty to kiss his wife.
Leave your house.
Throw memories.
Forget the past.
Suppress to suppress.
Explain to the children when dad returns
And whether it will return once
Something like that.
Very sweet,
The butterfly drunk attention sweet, sweet, sweet ...
And death flashed through the enchanted seas.
They will write in letters that the heroes were killed, mothers.
A helplessly great country will subside in horror.
So what did you do insoluble, war.
In this sultry afternoon, he looked at the tree,
Failed in time.
The past beat the crown.
I imagined that the trunk is a house,
Branches are rooms, and flowers are people living in it.
The wind blew, the scrap was a petal,
So dad was falling asleep sand.
I put the album in the shoulder bag,
He got up, inhaled and slowly went.
If the souls really move
So who is dad? Rock is surprised
The spirit is in search of an answer.
The yard has long been a hot summer.
Like a canary in a cage
Sadness beats aptly.
A puppet, a coin that has fallen to the ground.
And only the butterfly flew from the branch to the branch,
But Rock did not understand who this was ...
And again the winds of the gods were filled, drawn height.
No more votes are heard and people give the soul.
A strip of events flashed before my eyes,
Leaving a trace of resentment, fearlessness and pride of the father.
And death flashed through the enchanted seas.
They will write in letters that the heroes were killed, mothers.
A helplessly great country will subside in horror.
So what did you do insoluble, war.
It has been dusty for years,
butterfly on it,
Lives the only day.
The son holds the image of his father
Volunteer, young man.
He remembers how they went to the Kabuki Theater in childhood,
Like a father did not tolerate loud sounds.
His hands erected a house by the river.
In the summer, flowers were collected in the field.
And the dreams of young dad become a geographer
Scratched on the desk with a thin hieroglyph
Somehow strange, and the butterfly fluttered everything.
We lived on the island of Okinawa.
I enjoyed the life of little rock,
Father, mom, sister Minoku.
Once dad went to the recruits
He was just Kamikadze.
And again the winds of the gods were filled, drawn height.
No more votes are heard and people give the soul.
A strip of events flashed before my eyes,
Leaving a trace of resentment, fearlessness and pride of the father.
Divine wind, and children remained in their homeland,
Wives curse in an envelope.
At dawn I sat in a clear light,
A portion of sadness in his sculpting.
It is so scary to inhale the last minutes.
Be alive, but almost dead,
Doomed, by goodwill, prisoners,
In devotion to the initiates,
How steel be hardened.
The last time the country is to pay a debt.
Hug the kids,
Favorite beauty to kiss his wife.
Leave your house.
Throw memories.
Forget the past.
Suppress to suppress.
Explain to the children when dad returns
And whether it will return once
Something like that.
Very sweet,
The butterfly drunk attention sweet, sweet, sweet ...
And death flashed through the enchanted seas.
They will write in letters that the heroes were killed, mothers.
A helplessly great country will subside in horror.
So what did you do insoluble, war.
In this sultry afternoon, he looked at the tree,
Failed in time.
The past beat the crown.
I imagined that the trunk is a house,
Branches are rooms, and flowers are people living in it.
The wind blew, the scrap was a petal,
So dad was falling asleep sand.
I put the album in the shoulder bag,
He got up, inhaled and slowly went.
If the souls really move
So who is dad? Rock is surprised
The spirit is in search of an answer.
The yard has long been a hot summer.
Like a canary in a cage
Sadness beats aptly.
A puppet, a coin that has fallen to the ground.
And only the butterfly flew from the branch to the branch,
But Rock did not understand who this was ...
And again the winds of the gods were filled, drawn height.
No more votes are heard and people give the soul.
A strip of events flashed before my eyes,
Leaving a trace of resentment, fearlessness and pride of the father.
And death flashed through the enchanted seas.
They will write in letters that the heroes were killed, mothers.
A helplessly great country will subside in horror.
So what did you do insoluble, war.
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