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| Тема |
 Re: Конкуренцията от Варна [re: пaтpиoтбr] |
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| Автор |
Mиpa_M (несериозна) |
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| Публикувано | 10.03.07 23:22 |
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Знам ли я, на мен варненката не ми се видя нещо особено откъм пеене, но мен ме е настъпил слон по ухото, та не знам.
Разполагаме вече и с превод на английски на двата текста в блога на някакъв образ.
I Slaughtered 6 Hens
I've slaughtered 6 Hens,
I've poured some sparkling wine.
Come, my love, and dine,
I'm waiting for thee to have dinner
I've washed my feet
With a roof-tile from Chirpan.
My feet are white and they are fat,
and they have never seen the sun.
I've washed my pants
last night at the drain.
My pants are washed and they are torn
And I wear them unbuttoned.
Тhe Song of the Cow
The cow started crying
At the crib, at the chaff.
The farm-men heard her,
The farm-men, the milkers.
They let the cow loose
And led her to the town hall.
There all the councillors,
led by their chairman,
asked they the cow,
if she was short of chaff,
so that she was so careworn,
and then the cow retorted:
"You plan from me
to obtain 5 tons of milk.
Where is your fodder,
your fodder, your forage?
Where is your beetroot,
your beetroot, your green crop?"
She scolded them a great deal,
and then the cow left.
And then all the councillors,
led by their chairman,
were left there careworn themselves
because of the cow's wisdom.
“...мачти, комини и ето–невидял нито къс от морето, вече влязъл съм в морския град”
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