Haski - Поэма о Родине (Poema o Rodine) Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

Poem on the Motherland

[Couplet 1]
We, the children of barracks, are somehow clumsy
Impolite, as if drunk on nothing
Or something from the prowling carriages of a PPS1
Two shining pairs of eyes, like a couple of M&M's
The construction sites are like crutches propping up the sky
All of them a Devyatka 92 cutting through the wastelands
And workers slaving over hard work, like a tarantula cocoon
And human offal in in the picture windows
I will pass through like I was in Manhattan or in the Eastern streets
With swollen faces from the unblocked sunlight
Children wheezing in strollers, having pointed with springs
All my classmates pictured nearby
Through the noon-time streets, as if through Montparnasse
I let myself be deceived every time I pass a hobo
Till I'm lying drunk in a back street I'll be huffing and puffing
And with a hydrogen bomb crashing into your chest
 
[Refrain]
My motherland, my love: I see through the window
Little monotowns3 in dreary grey cloth
My motherland, my love, and through every window
Slumtown soldiers smiling at me
My motherland, my love: I see through the window
Little monotowns in dreary grey cloth
My homeland, my love, where I ironically (read poetry)
Read poetry to my gun
 
[Couplet 2]
Our people at war, our people in jail
I'm constantly remembering that Monday in October
How I collected a bribe from a pink cop
Afraid that he'd push a tenner, like Kent
Another bro said 'don't fucking choose' (to go to war)
Having left for war, he left to die
And I remained here, like Talking Govorun4
With a scared child towards plastic windows
We look like peers in a train dining car
At the adjacent tables are unexpected eating-mates
Remember, you died and we ate your flesh
Which smelled like a mummy, forgotten in a Mausoleum
A lost Chaldean I send, where it’s accustomed to
Sweating and cold, the guide grinned
And I disintegrate in love, loudly without shame
You in the dining-car train to nowhere
 
[Refrain]
My motherland, my love: I see through the window
Little monotowns in dreary grey cloth
My motherland, my love, and through every window
Slumtown soldiers smiling at me
My motherland, my love: I see through the window
Little monotowns in dreary grey cloth
My homeland, my love, where I ironically (read poetry)
Read poetry to my gun
 
[Outro]
Ava-a-ava-eva-ava-ava-eva
Ava-a-ava-eva-ava-ava-eva
Ava-a-ava-eva-ava-ava-eva
Ava-a-ava-eva-ava-ava-eva
Ulan-Ude
 

• 1. a kind of submachine gun
• 2. a Soviet sedan
• 3. an uniquely Soviet kind of town, dedicated to producing one thing only
• 4. a talking bird from a film

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