New Game "ïîëíûé êàðìàí áîðìîòàíèé"

[snyders]

Guess a poem behind the promt-translation:

ß - òîëüêî áåäíûé ìàëü÷èê.
Õîòÿ ìîÿ èñòîðèÿ, ðåäêî ñêàçàííàÿ,
ÿ òðàòèë ìîå ñîïðîòèâëåíèå
Äëÿ ïîëíîãî êàðìàíà áîðìîòàíèé,
Òàêîé - îáåùàíèÿ,
âñå íåïðàâäû è øóòêà îäíàêî,
÷åëîâåê ñëûøàò òî, ÷òî îí õî÷åò ñëûøàòü
È îñòàëüíîå èãíîðèðîâàíèé.

Êîãäà ÿ îñòàâèë ìîé äîì è ìîå ñåìåéñòâî,
ÿ áûë íå áîëüøå, ÷åì ìàëü÷èê
 êîìïàíèè íåçíàêîìöåâ
 òèõîì èç æåëåçíîäîðîæíîé ñòàíöèè,
Óïðàâëÿÿ èñïóãàííûì, êëàäÿ(íàëàãàÿ) íèçêî,
Ðàçûñêèâàÿ áîëåå áåäíûå ÷åòâåðòè(êâàðòàëû),
êóäà ðâàíûå ëþäè èäóò,
Ïîèñê ìåñò
Òîëüêî îíè çíàëè áû.
Ëà ëîæüþ ëîæü...
Âûÿñíåíèå òîëüêî çàðàáîòíàÿ ïëàòà ðàáî÷åãî,
ÿ ïðèáûâàþ, èùà ðàáîòó,
Íî ÿ íå ïîëó÷àåò íèêàêèå ïðåäëîæåíèÿ,
Òîëüêî ïðîäâèãàåìîå îò øëþõ
Íà Ñåäüìîì Àâåíþ.
ß îáúÿâëÿþ,
áûëè âðåìåíà, êîãäà ÿ áûë íàñòîëüêî îäèíîê,
ÿ áðàë íåêîòîðûé êîìôîðò òàì.
Òåïåðü ãîäû ïðîòåêàþò ìåíÿ,
Îíè êà÷àþòñÿ ðàâíîìåðíî.
ß ñòàðøèé ÷åì, ÿ îäíàæäû áûë,
Áîëåå ìîëîäîé ÷åì ÿ áóäó,
Ýòî - íå íåîáû÷íî.
Íåò, ýòî - íå ñòðàííî,
Ïîñëå èçìåíåíèé(çàìåí) íà èçìåíåíèÿ(çàìåíû),
Ìû áîëåå èëè ìåíåå òå æå ñàìûå.
Ïîñëå èçìåíÿåòñÿ, ìû áîëåå èëè ìåíåå òå æå ñàìûå.
Ëà ëîæüþ ëîæü.. ..
Òîãäà ÿ ðàçìåùàþ ìîþ çèìíþþ îäåæäó
È æåëàþ, ÷òîáû ÿ óøåë,
èäÿ äîìîé,
ãäå çèìû Íüþ-Éîðê Ñèòè
Íå êðîâîòî÷àò ìåíÿ,
Âåäÿ ìåíÿ,
Èäóùèé äîìîé.
 êëèðèíãå âûäåðæèâàåò áîêñåðà,
È áîðöà(èñòðåáèòåëü) åãî òîðãîâëåé,
è îí íåñåò íàïîìèíàíèÿ
ev'ry ïåð÷àòêè, êîòîðàÿ óëîæèëà åãî
Èëè ñîêðàùàëà åãî, ïîêà îí íå âûêðèêíóë
 åãî ãíåâå è åãî ïîçîðå, " ÿ óåçæàþ, ÿ óåçæàþ. "
Íî áîðåö(èñòðåáèòåëü) âñå åùå îñòàåòñÿ.
Ëà ëîæüþ ëîæü...

Comments

[rjohnson.livejournal.com]

"Boxer" S&G

Yes, of course.

[snyders.livejournal.com]

The Boxer

I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest

When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know

Lie la lie ...

Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there

Lie la lie ...

Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me
Bleeding me, going home

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains

Lie la lie ...

Paul Simon
1968 Paul Simon

Newer version of promt translator, same translation quality

[snyders.livejournal.com]

ß - òîëüêî áåäíûé ìàëü÷èê, õîòÿ ìîÿ èñòîðèÿ ðåäêî ñêàçàë ÿ òðàòèë ìîå ñîïðîòèâëåíèå Äëÿ êàðìàíà, ïîëíîãî áîðìîòàíèÿìè òàêîé - îáåùàíèÿ Âñå íåïðàâäû è øóòêè, âñå åùå ÷åëîâåê ñëûøèò òî, ÷òî îí õî÷åò ñëûøàòü È îñòàëüíîå èãíîðèðîâàíèé, êîãäà ÿ îñòàâèë ìîé äîì, è ìîå ñåìåéñòâî ÿ áûë íå áîëüøå, ÷åì ìàëü÷èê  êîìïàíèè íåçíàêîìöåâ  òèõîì èç æåëåçíîäîðîæíîé ñòàíöèè, óïðàâëÿþùåé èñïóãàííûì Íàëîæåíèåì íèçêî, ðàçûñêèâàíèå áîëåå áåäíûõ ÷åòâåðòåé(êâàðòàëîâ), êóäà ðâàíûå ëþäè èäóò Èñêàòü ìåñòà, òîëüêî îíè çíàëè áû Ëîæü Ëà ëîæü... Âûÿñíåíèå òîëüêî çàðàáîòíàÿ ïëàòà ðàáî÷åãî, ÿ ïðèáûâàþ, èùà ðàáîòó, íî ÿ íå ïîëó÷àåò íèêàêèå ïðåäëîæåíèÿ, Òîëüêî ïðîäâèãàåìîå îò øëþõ íà Ñåäüìîì Àâåíþ, êîòîðûé ÿ îáúÿâëÿþ, áûëè âðåìåíà, êîãäà ÿ áûë íàñòîëüêî îäèíîê, ÿ áðàë íåêîòîðûé êîìôîðò, òàì Ëåæàò Ëà ëîæü.. .. Òîãäà ÿ ðàçìåùàþ ìîþ çèìíþþ îäåæäó È æåëàþ, ÷òîáû ÿ óøåë, èäÿ äîìîé, ãäå çèìû Íüþ-Éîðê Ñèòè íå êðîâîòî÷àò ìåíÿ Êðîâîòî÷àùèé ÿ, èäÿ äîìîé  êëèðèíãå âûäåðæèâàåò áîêñåðà È áîðöà(èñòðåáèòåëü) åãî òîðãîâëåé, è îí íåñåò íàïîìèíàíèÿ ev'ry ïåð÷àòêè, êîòîðóþ layed åãî èëè Âíèç ñíèæåíèÿ(îòðåçêà) åãî, ïîêà îí íå âûêðèêíóë  åãî ãíåâå, è åãî ïîçîð " ÿ óåçæàþ, ÿ óåçæàþ " Íî áîðåö(èñòðåáèòåëü) âñå åùå îñòàåòñÿ Ëîæüþ Ëà ëîæü..