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Poetry with a tune: "Translation of Lyrics" » English to Belarusian

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Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone's frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singing.
Then I headed down the street,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing,
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.

The winning entry has been announced in this pair.

There were 3 entries submitted in this pair during the submission phase. The winning entry was determined based on finals round voting by peers.

Competition in this pair is now closed.


Entries (3 total) Expand all entries

Entry #14915 — Discuss 0
Winner
Voting points1st2nd3rd
369 x400
Entry tagging:
  • 2 users entered 3 "like" tags
Захад ранку у нядзельку
Good term selection
Irina Lapich
Бо нядзеля пахне нечым, Што агортвае туга.
Flows well
Irina Lapich
малечу-рагатуху
Flows well
Выдатны ва​рыянт! Уво​гуле перак​лад добра ​чытаецца, ​і гумар пе​рададзены.​ Атрымала ​асалоду:)
Hanna Kanabiajeuskaja
Entry #14819 — Discuss 0
Voting points1st2nd3rd
3003 x1
Entry tagging:
  • No "like" tags
Entry #14804 — Discuss 0
Voting points1st2nd3rd
804 x20
Entry tagging:
  • 1 user entered 1 "like" tag
А галава балела, як ты яе ні пакладзі.
Flows well
прыгожы, л​аканічны і​ дакладны ​пераклад
Irina Lapich