Моя цыганская - В. Высоцкий - english

Евгений Ратков
Интерпретация


1
Yellow lights are in my dream,
And I  wheez: - My God, no!..
Next morning may be a joy theme -
Just let me be tomorrow.
But the  last days weren't for my heart,
Being unavailable for lover -
I  smoked  with the empty gut,
Or vodka was for hangover.

2
There are taverns to pastime,
To be there - fools have  a reason,
But those places aren't of mine -
I feel - it's a bird's prison.
Church has stench and smoke's traces:
Priests burn incensed honey.
It's  godforsaken plaсe -
Hardly it may be holy.

3
Then I  climbed up  on a hill
(I thought, there is a  fairy..)- 
There were a red alder - in real -
And lower - a  black cherry.
Twist by ivy that  hill's slope -
I  heartly will  thank you.
Oh, then I surely won't mope,-
And won't be sad and blue.

Hey one, another one,
And many, many, many, many ones...

4
Along a river I ran and ran:
Sea of sunlight  -  without  God...
There were  cornflowers to scan,
"Long road" - I had thought.
A thick forest is by the road -
Witches're with horrid  faces,
And in the end - there are - unloaded:
A scaffold with sharp axes.

5
Slowly horses  jump and run,
They do not feel  my sorrow...
Along the road - there's no fun,
But in the end is horror.
Neither in church nor  in pub -
There isn't  a right way.
Wretched life's aim is to club...
All is wrong today.

Hey one, another one,
And many, many, many, many ones,
Another one and other ones,
All is wrong in our way...

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Доп. вариант окончания 3-й строфы:

Twist by ivy that  hill's slope -
I  will  sing love song,
Instead day after day to mope:
- Oh! all-around is wrong.