We skipped the light fandango
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kinda seasick
But the crowd called out for more
The room was humming harder
As the ceiling flew away
When we called out for another drink
And the waiter brought a tray
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale
She said, "There is no reason
And the truth is plain to see."
But I wandered through my playing cards
And they would not let her be
One of sixteen vestal virgins
Who were leaving for the coast
And although my eyes were open wide
They might have just as well been closed
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale
She said, "I'm here on a shore leave,"
Though we were miles at sea.
I pointed out this detail
And forced her to agree,
Saying, "You must be the mermaid
Who took King Neptune for a ride."
And she smiled at me so sweetly
That my anger straightway died.
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale
If music be the food of love
Then laughter is it's queen
And likewise if behind is in front
Then dirt in truth is clean
My mouth by then like cardboard
Seemed to slip straight through my head
So we crash-dived straightway quickly
And attacked the ocean bed
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale
Мы танцевали легкое «Фанданго»,
Колесами арбы скользя по миражам.
Я чувствовал, как сильно меня мутит, -
Толпа взывала к новым виражам.
А комната была такой тяжелой
И кто-то уже напрочь «крышу» снес.
Мы запросили новые напитки -
Официант принес большой поднос.
- И так случилось, значительно позднее…
Так «мукомол»** начал свой рассказ.
- Ее лицо мне призраком бледнело,
Белее Бледности в десятки тысяч раз!
Она сказала – "Вовсе нет причины,
Чтоб правду обо мне не распознать!"
Я увлечен был карточной игрою
И не успел позволить ей предстать
Одной из девственных шестнадцатилеток,
Гуляющих по взморью по ночам…
Глаза мои были открыты,
Но верил я тогда лишь вещим снам.
- Но так случилось - чуть-чуть позднее...
Здесь «мукомол» продолжил свой рассказ.
- Ее лицо мне призраком бледнело,
Белее бледного в десятки тысяч раз.
Промолвила – "Наверно дома я, в постели..."
Хотя волна касалась наших тел...
Я соблазнил ее своим прозрачным взглядом…
Она ответила… и я ей овладел,
Сказав – "Должна ты быть русалкой,
Наездницей на грозном НептунЕ!"
Лишь улыбалась мне она печально,
Убив досаду, страсть родив во мне.
- Вот так все получилось, но позднее,
И «мукомол» продолжил свой рассказ,
- Ее лицо мне призраком бледнело,
Белее бледного в десятки тысяч раз!
И если музыка была любовным яством,
То смех был Королевой тех утех…
И было нам неважно - спереди иль сзади –
Когда в грязи рождался чистый смех.
Мой рот тогда вдруг сделался картонным,
А в голове метался ураган,
А мы друг в друга быстро погружались,
Как атакует днище океан.
- Да, так случилось - не скажу вернее,
Так «мукомол» закончил свой рассказ,
- Ее лицо мне призраком бледнело,
Белее Бледности в десятки тысяч раз! We skipped the light fandango
Turned cartwheels' cross the floor
I was feeling kinda seasick
But the crowd called out for more
The room was humming harder
As the ceiling flew away
When we called out for another drink
And the waiter brought a tray
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale
She said, & quot; There is no reason
And the truth is plain to see. & Quot;
But I wandered through my playing cards
And they would not let her be
One of sixteen vestal virgins
Who were leaving for the coast
And although my eyes were open wide
They might have just as well been closed
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale
She said, & quot; I'm here on a shore leave, & quot;
Though we were miles at sea.
I pointed out this detail
And forced her to agree,
Saying, & quot; You must be the mermaid
Who took King Neptune for a ride. & Quot;
And she smiled at me so sweetly
That my anger straightway died.
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale
If music be the food of love
Then laughter is it's queen
And likewise if behind is in front
Then dirt in truth is clean
My mouth by then like cardboard
Seemed to slip straight through my head
So we crash-dived straightway quickly
And attacked the ocean bed
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale
We danced a slight "Fandango"
Wheel carts slipping on a mirage.
I felt how much I feel sick -
The crowd cried out to the new Virage.
And the room was so heavy
And someone has already completely "roof" demolished.
We requested new drinks -
The waiter brought a large tray.
- And so it happened much later ...
So "miller" ** began his story.
- Her face paled me a ghost,
Whiter pallor in the tens of thousands of times!
She said - & quot; Not at all reasons
To the truth about me not recognize! & Quot;
I was fascinated by the play of a card
And did not have time to let her appear
One of the primary shestnadtsatiletok,
Walking along the seashore at night ...
My eyes were open,
But I believed then only prophetic dreams.
- But it happened - a little bit later ...
Here, the "miller" continued the story.
- Her face paled me a ghost,
Whiter pale in tens of thousands of times.
Murmured - & quot; I guess I'm at home, in bed ... & quot;
Although the wave touches our bodies ...
I seduced her with his clear eyes ...
She answered ... and I mastered it,
Saying - & quot; you must be a mermaid,
Rider on the formidable Neptune! & Quot;
She just smiled at me sadly,
Killing annoyance, giving birth to a passion in me.
- That's how it happened, but later,
And "miller" continued the story,
- Her face paled me a ghost,
Whiter pale in tens of thousands of times!
And if the music was love pudding,
That laugh was the Queen of the joys ...
And it does not matter to us - in front il behind -
When the mud was born pure laughter.
My mouth then suddenly made a cardboard,
And in my head tossed hurricane
And we have each other quickly sank,
How to attack the bottom of the ocean.
- Yes, it happened - I will not say more precisely,
So "miller" finished his story,
- Her face paled me a ghost,
Whiter pallor in the tens of thousands of times! | |
