Do any of you know about this guy?
He was nicknamed the "Bard" in the Soviet Union when he was alive.
Here, listen to his "Song about a friend" with a passable translation (click on Аудио).
A really good singer and songwriter. :2thumbsup:
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Do any of you know about this guy?
He was nicknamed the "Bard" in the Soviet Union when he was alive.
Here, listen to his "Song about a friend" with a passable translation (click on Аудио).
A really good singer and songwriter. :2thumbsup:
His voice usually makes me cry...
I'll take that as a compliment.:yes:
He was up there with the best of the best.
I'm sorry and I do not mean to offend you, but he cannot sing for beans, he just yells. He sounds like a growling barbarian or something. :P Sorry, I just do not like it at all. :P
Of course it is :beam:Quote:
Originally Posted by desert
I can understand people's fascination with this guy, including his voice.
May I recommend our own Russian bard, Drs P. (linky)?
By the way, I love your siggy, Tristuskhan. :bow:
Now this Dutch guy is very interesting. What can you tell me about him?Quote:
Originally Posted by Adrian II
Could you say translate this song for me?
Thanks,
Vuk
He has an interesting voice, but...
Quote:
I'm sorry and I do not mean to offend you, but he cannot sing for beans, he just yells. He sounds like a growling barbarian or something. :P Sorry, I just do not like it at all. :P
:jawdrop:
How dare you! :laugh4:
He'll haunt you in your dreams for that!
He was a brilliant singer and comedian, extremely good with words. His songs and poetry were totally absurd, yet very entertaining. A bit of a crossing between Hugh Laurie and Dudley Moore, if that means anything to you. Drs P. is now 90 years old and he hasn't been active fore a decade. The clip you linked is a parody of him, no doubt in good faith because he is greatly loved and appreciated among Dutch comedians.Quote:
Originally Posted by Vuk
I realise that it is a parody (it has to be, cause he was much skinnier :P). I am curious as to the lyrics though. (I do not speak Dutch :P thank goodness! :beam:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Adrian II
Thanks Adrian!
Vuk
Welcome, I was beginning to feel guilty for derailing the thread. I don't have any English texts by Drs P. or any translations into English, sorry. I do know however that he published one collection of poems and songs in foreing languages including English. The book is called Lyriana. I'd be interested to see it myself. Maybe we are lucky and some other member has it on his shelf.Quote:
Originally Posted by Vuk
Look, I found some isolated piece on a website:
The oldsters come and let their
arteries harden While drinking in stale music and
fresh air The younger ones take no more than
their share There is a hint of chivalry and Arden
Though Pond's, one gathers, is more
widely sold There's goodwill and contentment as
of old (They're playing In a Monastery
Garden)
lol, what the heck does that mean? :P
Technically speaking, young man, this is a short narrative poem in free verse based on assonance and alliteration about a concert in a monastery garden.Quote:
Originally Posted by Vuk
So there. :book:
We're riding in a Troika down a forest without end
it's thirty below zero which will drive you round the bend
The horses' hooves are grinding through the snow so crisp and clean
a Siberian night is falling, and no lions can be seen
We travel with the children even though they're very young
through endless woods as I already mentioned in this song
the scenery is beautiful, but wild, so I believe
and that there are no lions is a source of great relief
We're on our way to Omsk although the road is very long
To bide the time we cheer each other up by singing songs
But then I see a movement in the distance far away
It's dark and it is multiple and makes me quite afraid
Although they are still far away, I see them very clear
there seem to be a lot of them and quickly they come near
They get too close to us by being very fleet of foot
our family's in danger and that can't be very good
They're menacing and dark, and very rapid as they run
I see it now, they're quadrupeds, they're clearly having fun
with great big teeth and shiny eyes that I can clearly see
they must be wolves, and mean ones too, this really bothers me
But though things are precarious, I will not panic yet
I keep the spirits high by singing loudly this, and that
We certainly know all our songs, and sing along we do
the wolves are sticking close to us as if with superglue
From here to Omsk it is about a hundred Werst, I think
So I am really glad we changed the horses this morning
But all the same the wolves caught up and this is not so nice
I see the hungry appetite is gleaming in their eyes
But still we act all nonchalant, and sing with steady breath
whilst we are only too aware of our impending deaths
So I turn to my darling wife and whisper in her ear
"Who are we going to sacrifice, because we must, my dear"
What do you think of Igor? no! He plays the violin!
Nor can it be Natasha as in Chess she always wins.
Sonja can't be it, indeed, her voice is really nice.
So Pjotr draws the shortest straw, he has to pay the price.
And while we sing I grab the little rascal by the heels
and off he flies into the night with one almighty squeal
This juicy morsel does distract the wolves, and while they dine
We pull away from them again as we sing "auld lang syne"
We really do appreciate that Pjotr's edible
Because it means we lose the wolves for a good while until
They trail off in the distance like the remnants of a dream
and we sing "Row, Row, Row the boat and don't forget to scream"
But then we hear the howling and our hopes do fade once more
So Sonja takes the plunge as she goes flying overboard
There she goes, poor little thing, we ponder as she falls
And all the while it's "Humpty dumpty sitting on the wall"
All this does make me pensive and my wife is teary eyed
but there's no time to reflect now the wolves are back beside
So Igor I'm afraid you won't be playing for the crowd
Just fifty-two more Werst and "I'm a tea-pot short and stout"
With Igor gone for just a while our peace has been restored
but back they are as if to make damn sure we don't get bored
Natasha's dying scream will cut through us just like a knife
While we were singing of Jack Prat and of his hungry wife
So now it's a duet between myself and Mrs me
And with a bit of luck we make it in time for Tea
But then I have to hand her over to the hungry pack
and sang about the little ducks, just one came swimming back
But then I cheer up quite a bit because I see Omsk's lights
And as I jump with glee I trip and fall into the night
And while the wolves devour me my last respects I pay
to Omsk, which is a lovely town, but just that bit too far away
Troika here, Troika there
Yes, you see them everywhere
Troika here, Troika there
Stuffed with straw and horse's hair
Troika here, Troika there
We deliver out of stock
Troika here, Troika there
Gents' attire and ladies' frocks
Troika here, Troika there
Omsk is just that bit to far
Troika here, Troika there
Long live our beloved Tzar!
I take it that the lyrics have a deep political meaning? Anyone know what it is?
I am Adrian's overwhelming surprise that you got hold of this. Where did you find it? And yes, no doubt there are hidden political codes, pornographic images and eurocentrist views in there.Quote:
Originally Posted by Vuk
Trioka hier, troika daar
Kijk, daar loopt een ooievaar
Trioka hier, troika daar
Basgitaar en klapsigaar
Trioka hier, troika daar
Flinkgebouwde weduwnaar
Troika hier,troika daar
Twee halfom en een tartaar