Gleb Alexandrov - Misty Mountains Ballad
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Gleb Alexandrov - Misty Mountains Ballad - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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За Мглистые Горы пора нам идти
В Поход за сокровищем прошлых столетий!
Уйдем на рассвете, пусть бесится ветер,
Нам древнее золото надо найти.
Под молотов звоны в забытые дни
Там гномы трудились в таинственных норах.
В дела своих рук колдовские узоры
И тайные чары вплетали они.
Из лунных лучей ожерелья плели,
Как гребни дракона, сверкали короны.
Свет солнца, с сиянием лунным сплетенный,
В кольчугах серебряных взор веселил.
Раз гром прилетел из-за Северных Гор.
И вспыхнули сосны большими кострами.
Багровое пламя, питаясь стволами,
Ревело и выло, объяв Эребор.
От ужаса люди сходили с ума
В долине под гром колокольного звона.
В безжалостном пламени злого дракона
Погибли они и сгорели дома.
За древним сокровищем надо идти,
В Поход за холодные Мглистые Горы,
Где в тайных пещерах и сумрачных норах
Забытое золото тускло блестит.
Tolkien's original poetry:
Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, on twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
The pines were roaring on the heights,
The wind was moaning in the night,
The fire was red, it flaming spread,
The trees like torches blazed with light.
The bells were ringing in the dale,
And men looked up with faces pale.
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire,
Laid low their towers and houses frail.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.
В Поход за сокровищем прошлых столетий!
Уйдем на рассвете, пусть бесится ветер,
Нам древнее золото надо найти.
Под молотов звоны в забытые дни
Там гномы трудились в таинственных норах.
В дела своих рук колдовские узоры
И тайные чары вплетали они.
Из лунных лучей ожерелья плели,
Как гребни дракона, сверкали короны.
Свет солнца, с сиянием лунным сплетенный,
В кольчугах серебряных взор веселил.
Раз гром прилетел из-за Северных Гор.
И вспыхнули сосны большими кострами.
Багровое пламя, питаясь стволами,
Ревело и выло, объяв Эребор.
От ужаса люди сходили с ума
В долине под гром колокольного звона.
В безжалостном пламени злого дракона
Погибли они и сгорели дома.
За древним сокровищем надо идти,
В Поход за холодные Мглистые Горы,
Где в тайных пещерах и сумрачных норах
Забытое золото тускло блестит.
Tolkien's original poetry:
Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, on twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
The pines were roaring on the heights,
The wind was moaning in the night,
The fire was red, it flaming spread,
The trees like torches blazed with light.
The bells were ringing in the dale,
And men looked up with faces pale.
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire,
Laid low their towers and houses frail.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.
It's time for us to go for the blasphemy mountains
On a trip to the treasure of past centuries!
Let's leave at dawn, let the wind beg,
We need to find ancient gold.
Under Molotov calling on forgotten days
There, the dwarves worked in the mysterious burrows.
In the affairs of their hands witchcraft patterns
And secret spells they wove.
From the lunar rays of the necklaces weaved,
Like the crests of the dragon, the crowns sparkled.
The light of the sun, woven with a lunar,
In silver chain mail, the gaze had fun.
Once the thunder flew from behind the northern mountains.
And pine trees flared up with large bonfires.
Crimson flame, eating trunks,
It roared and turned out, announcing Ereor.
In horror, people went crazy
In the valley under the thunder of the bell ringing.
In the ruthless flame of the evil dragon
They died and burned at home.
You have to go for an ancient treasure,
On a hike for the cold halted mountains,
Where in secret caves and gloomy burrows
Forgotten gold dullly shines.
Tolkien's Original Poetry:
Far Over The Misty Mountains Cold,
To Dungeons Deep and Caverns Old,
We must away, ereak of day,
To Seek Our Pale Enchanted Gold.
The Dwarves of Yore Made Mighty Spells,
While Hammers Fell Like Ringing Bells,
In Places Deep, Were Dark Things Sleep,
In Hollow Halls Beneath The Fells.
On Silver Necklaces They Strung
The Flowering Stars, On Crowns They Hung
The Dragon-Fire, On Twisted Wire
They Meshed the Light of Moon and Sun.
The Pines Were Roaring On the Heights,
The Wind Was Moaning in the Night,
The Fire Was Red, It Flaming Spread,
The Trees Like Torches Blazed with Light.
The Bells Were Ringing in the Dale,
And Men Loucked Up with Faces Pale.
The Dragon's Ire, More Fierce than Fire,
Laid Low Their Towers and Houses Frail.
Far Over The Misty Mountains Cold,
To Dungeons Deep and Caverns Old,
We must away, ereak of day,
To Claim OUR LONG-FORGOTEN GOLD.
On a trip to the treasure of past centuries!
Let's leave at dawn, let the wind beg,
We need to find ancient gold.
Under Molotov calling on forgotten days
There, the dwarves worked in the mysterious burrows.
In the affairs of their hands witchcraft patterns
And secret spells they wove.
From the lunar rays of the necklaces weaved,
Like the crests of the dragon, the crowns sparkled.
The light of the sun, woven with a lunar,
In silver chain mail, the gaze had fun.
Once the thunder flew from behind the northern mountains.
And pine trees flared up with large bonfires.
Crimson flame, eating trunks,
It roared and turned out, announcing Ereor.
In horror, people went crazy
In the valley under the thunder of the bell ringing.
In the ruthless flame of the evil dragon
They died and burned at home.
You have to go for an ancient treasure,
On a hike for the cold halted mountains,
Where in secret caves and gloomy burrows
Forgotten gold dullly shines.
Tolkien's Original Poetry:
Far Over The Misty Mountains Cold,
To Dungeons Deep and Caverns Old,
We must away, ereak of day,
To Seek Our Pale Enchanted Gold.
The Dwarves of Yore Made Mighty Spells,
While Hammers Fell Like Ringing Bells,
In Places Deep, Were Dark Things Sleep,
In Hollow Halls Beneath The Fells.
On Silver Necklaces They Strung
The Flowering Stars, On Crowns They Hung
The Dragon-Fire, On Twisted Wire
They Meshed the Light of Moon and Sun.
The Pines Were Roaring On the Heights,
The Wind Was Moaning in the Night,
The Fire Was Red, It Flaming Spread,
The Trees Like Torches Blazed with Light.
The Bells Were Ringing in the Dale,
And Men Loucked Up with Faces Pale.
The Dragon's Ire, More Fierce than Fire,
Laid Low Their Towers and Houses Frail.
Far Over The Misty Mountains Cold,
To Dungeons Deep and Caverns Old,
We must away, ereak of day,
To Claim OUR LONG-FORGOTEN GOLD.