Перевод песни Mary's eyes | Группа gaelic storm | Альбом Tree

1

Mary's eyes are startling blue And her hair's Newcastle gold And she walks the thin white line between The body and the soul. She's as faithful to her history As a novice to his fast; For she's standing on the bones Of Ireland's past.

Глаза Мэри — поразительно синие, А её волосы — это золото Ньюкасла1. И она шагает по тоненькой ниточке между Телом и душой. Она так же верна своей истории, Так и послушник говению2, Ведь она стоит на костях Прошлого Ирландии.

2

She's singing of the troubles And the fire in the land, 'Til I can almost feel the famine Slipping through my trembling hand. And I wonder as I hear her, That the spirit still shines through And she can reach across the ocean deep And break my heart in two...

Она ведёт песнь о невзгодах И о пламени на землях, И вскоре я практически чувствую, как обнищание Скользит сквозь мои дрожащие пальцы. И мне интересно, когда я слышу её, Что дух по-прежнему сияет, И она может добраться через океанскую глубь И разбить моё сердце надвое.

3

Mary's wise and she is foolish; She's as constant as the tide. For it's a woman's heart that beats beneath That stubborn Irish pride. We are saints and we are sinners, We are heros we are theives. We are all of us beginners On the road to Galilee

Мэри мудра и глупа, Она нерушима, как волна, Ведь сердце женщины бьётся под Той упёртой ирландской гордостью. Мы все святы — и все мы грешны, Мы все герои — и все мы воры. Каждый из нас недавно ступил На дорогу в Галилею3.

4

She's singing of the troubles And the fire in the land, 'Til I can almost feel the famine Slipping through my trembling hand. And I wonder as I hear her, That the spirit still shines through And she can reach across the ocean deep And break my heart in two...

Она ведёт песнь о невзгодах И о пламени на землях, И вскоре я практически чувствую, как обнищание Скользит сквозь мои дрожащие пальцы. И мне интересно, когда я слышу её, Что дух по-прежнему сияет, И она может добраться через океанскую глубь И разбить моё сердце надвое.

5

So let us hoist a pint of silence To the East where Ireland lies, And we will stare across the waters For a glimpse of Mary's eyes. We are ships without a harbor, We are sailors on dry land, And the song goes on forever Even though the record can't.

Дай поднять нам пинту молчания За восток, где лежит Ирландия, И через воды мы будем искать взглядом Блеск глаз Мэри. Мы — корабли без пристани, Мы — моряки на сухой земле, И песня вечна, Даже если запись4 — нет.

6

She's singing of the troubles And the fire in the land, 'Til I can almost feel the famine Slipping through my trembling hand. And I wonder as I hear her, That the spirit still shines through And she can reach across the ocean deep And break my heart in two...

Она ведёт песнь о невзгодах И о пламени на землях, И вскоре я практически чувствую, как обнищание Скользит сквозь мои дрожащие пальцы. И мне интересно, когда я слышу её, Что дух по-прежнему сияет, И она может добраться через океанскую глубь И разбить моё сердце надвое.

Gaelic storm

Tree

Mary's eyes English

Mary's eyes are startling blue And her hair's Newcastle gold And she walks the thin white line between The body and the soul. She's as faithful to her history As a novice to his fast; For she's standing on the bones Of Ireland's past.

She's singing of the troubles And the fire in the land, 'Til I can almost feel the famine Slipping through my trembling hand. And I wonder as I hear her, That the spirit still shines through And she can reach across the ocean deep And break my heart in two...

Mary's wise and she is foolish; She's as constant as the tide. For it's a woman's heart that beats beneath That stubborn Irish pride. We are saints and we are sinners, We are heros we are theives. We are all of us beginners On the road to Galilee

She's singing of the troubles And the fire in the land, 'Til I can almost feel the famine Slipping through my trembling hand. And I wonder as I hear her, That the spirit still shines through And she can reach across the ocean deep And break my heart in two...

So let us hoist a pint of silence To the East where Ireland lies, And we will stare across the waters For a glimpse of Mary's eyes. We are ships without a harbor, We are sailors on dry land, And the song goes on forever Even though the record can't.

She's singing of the troubles And the fire in the land, 'Til I can almost feel the famine Slipping through my trembling hand. And I wonder as I hear her, That the spirit still shines through And she can reach across the ocean deep And break my heart in two...