Simon Khorolskiy - I Am Dreaming of the Mountains
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Simon Khorolskiy - I Am Dreaming of the Mountains - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
- Текст
- Перевод
I am dreaming of the mountains of my home
Of the mountains where in childhood I would roam
I have dwelt 'neath southern skies
Where the summer never dies
But my heart is in the mountains of my home
I can see the little homestead on the hill
I can hear the charming music of the river
There is nothing to compare
With the love that once was there
In that lonely little homestead on the hill
I can see the quiet churchyard down below
Where the mountain breezes wander to and fro
And when God my soul will keep
It is there I want to sleep
With those dear old folks that loved me long ago
Русский перевод (thanks to Zarina Kozlov)
Часто снятся мне те горы, где мой дом,
Где я в детстве с каждым был знаком холмом.
Жил под южным небом я
В лета вечного краях,
Только сердце в тех горах и в доме том
Вижу сердцем милый домик на холме,
И мелодия реки звучит во мне
Не сравнится ничего
с нежностью, теплом его
Того маленького дома на холме
В тихий двор церковный веет ветер с гор...
Когда душу призовет к Себе мой Бог
Я б хотел покой найти ,
Где родные старики
Кто любил меня еще с тех давних пор
Of the mountains where in childhood I would roam
I have dwelt 'neath southern skies
Where the summer never dies
But my heart is in the mountains of my home
I can see the little homestead on the hill
I can hear the charming music of the river
There is nothing to compare
With the love that once was there
In that lonely little homestead on the hill
I can see the quiet churchyard down below
Where the mountain breezes wander to and fro
And when God my soul will keep
It is there I want to sleep
With those dear old folks that loved me long ago
Русский перевод (thanks to Zarina Kozlov)
Часто снятся мне те горы, где мой дом,
Где я в детстве с каждым был знаком холмом.
Жил под южным небом я
В лета вечного краях,
Только сердце в тех горах и в доме том
Вижу сердцем милый домик на холме,
И мелодия реки звучит во мне
Не сравнится ничего
с нежностью, теплом его
Того маленького дома на холме
В тихий двор церковный веет ветер с гор...
Когда душу призовет к Себе мой Бог
Я б хотел покой найти ,
Где родные старики
Кто любил меня еще с тех давних пор
I am Dreaming of the Mountains of My Home
Of the mountains What in childhood I woold roam
I have dwelt 'Neath Southern Skies
What the Summer Never Dies
But My Heart is in the Mountains of My Home
I Can See The Little Homestead on the Hill
I can hear The Charming Music of the River
There is not compare
With the love that once was the
In that Lonely Little Homestead on the Hill
I Can See Quiet Churchyard Down Below
What the mountain Breezes Wander to and Fro
And when My Soul Will Keep
It is the i want to sleep
With Those Dear Old Folks that Loved Me Long Ago
Russian Translation.
Often I dream of those mountains where my house,
Where I was familiar with each in childhood.
I lived under the southern sky I
In the summer of the eternal region,
Only the heart in those mountains and in the house Tom
I see a cute house on a hill with my heart,
And the melody of the river sounds in me
Nothing can compare
With tenderness, warm
That little house on a hill
In a quiet courtyard, the church blows the wind from the mountains ...
When my God calls for the soul
I would like to find peace
Where are the old old people
Who has loved me since then
Of the mountains What in childhood I woold roam
I have dwelt 'Neath Southern Skies
What the Summer Never Dies
But My Heart is in the Mountains of My Home
I Can See The Little Homestead on the Hill
I can hear The Charming Music of the River
There is not compare
With the love that once was the
In that Lonely Little Homestead on the Hill
I Can See Quiet Churchyard Down Below
What the mountain Breezes Wander to and Fro
And when My Soul Will Keep
It is the i want to sleep
With Those Dear Old Folks that Loved Me Long Ago
Russian Translation.
Often I dream of those mountains where my house,
Where I was familiar with each in childhood.
I lived under the southern sky I
In the summer of the eternal region,
Only the heart in those mountains and in the house Tom
I see a cute house on a hill with my heart,
And the melody of the river sounds in me
Nothing can compare
With tenderness, warm
That little house on a hill
In a quiet courtyard, the church blows the wind from the mountains ...
When my God calls for the soul
I would like to find peace
Where are the old old people
Who has loved me since then
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