Яна! Все, что Вы упомянули, мы, по крайней мере я (да, полагаю, и большинство присутствующих) слышали.
Я лично очень люблю Башлачева, очень люблю Янку (хотя слушать не могу) и многих других. Но Ваш максимализм по отношению к поэзии в западной музыке меня удивляет.
Rob! Жму ладонь! А вот от меня:
PATTI SMITH.
Ravens
Common fortune seeks us all
and slips our binding rings
we'll turn our heads
and make us reel
we'll bare our arms as wings
before our feet a feather drifts
beyond us it will fall
cause time will bid and make us rise
make ravens of us all
My love he breathed the air of kings
yet fell beneath his luck
and in his heart a yearning yet
before his time time shook
all the gifts that God had gave
and those by fate denied
gone to where all treasures laid
and where the raven flies
oh there are places I agree
where I have yet to roam
the Egyptian field
the arctic sea where shadows
haunt and moan
but none but sky
I have to go
should I return to thee
gone to where the feather flies
to all eternity
but for a time I got more time
till I a raven be
cause time will bid and make us rise
make ravens of us all
and time will bid and make us fly
make ravens of us all
and time will bid and make us fly
make ravens of us all
-------------------------------------------------
It Takes Time
No equation
to explain the division of the senses
No sound to reflect
the radiance of time
In the beginningest dream
Halls of disorder
Where we are swept to encircle dawn
Strapped in a low car
Racing thru silence
Trumpeting bliss
You could kiss the world
goodbye
Standing outside the courthouse
in the rain
Seemed like a lost soul
from the chapel of dreams
With a handful of images
Faces of children
Phases of the moon
One little thing you get wrong
changes the dimensions
Streets, swept memory
Diffused and lost
Like a prayer in the sun
Sometimes you can't tell
whether you're waking up
or going to sleep
Spiralling
Unnumbered streets
All the games cannot be yours
All the sights, the treasures of the eye
Does the divided soul remain the same?
No equation to explain
Destiny's hand
Moved, by love
Drawn by the whispering shadows
Into the mathematics
of our desire
Я лично очень люблю Башлачева, очень люблю Янку (хотя слушать не могу) и многих других. Но Ваш максимализм по отношению к поэзии в западной музыке меня удивляет.
Rob! Жму ладонь! А вот от меня:
PATTI SMITH.
Ravens
Common fortune seeks us all
and slips our binding rings
we'll turn our heads
and make us reel
we'll bare our arms as wings
before our feet a feather drifts
beyond us it will fall
cause time will bid and make us rise
make ravens of us all
My love he breathed the air of kings
yet fell beneath his luck
and in his heart a yearning yet
before his time time shook
all the gifts that God had gave
and those by fate denied
gone to where all treasures laid
and where the raven flies
oh there are places I agree
where I have yet to roam
the Egyptian field
the arctic sea where shadows
haunt and moan
but none but sky
I have to go
should I return to thee
gone to where the feather flies
to all eternity
but for a time I got more time
till I a raven be
cause time will bid and make us rise
make ravens of us all
and time will bid and make us fly
make ravens of us all
and time will bid and make us fly
make ravens of us all
-------------------------------------------------
It Takes Time
No equation
to explain the division of the senses
No sound to reflect
the radiance of time
In the beginningest dream
Halls of disorder
Where we are swept to encircle dawn
Strapped in a low car
Racing thru silence
Trumpeting bliss
You could kiss the world
goodbye
Standing outside the courthouse
in the rain
Seemed like a lost soul
from the chapel of dreams
With a handful of images
Faces of children
Phases of the moon
One little thing you get wrong
changes the dimensions
Streets, swept memory
Diffused and lost
Like a prayer in the sun
Sometimes you can't tell
whether you're waking up
or going to sleep
Spiralling
Unnumbered streets
All the games cannot be yours
All the sights, the treasures of the eye
Does the divided soul remain the same?
No equation to explain
Destiny's hand
Moved, by love
Drawn by the whispering shadows
Into the mathematics
of our desire
