The Beatles - Natural Essence

This day will end. It’s not forever
The distant sunset’s feeble light
The misty breathing of the evening -
The herald of the magic night

The spicy air will kiss your cheeks
The field of stars above your head
And sweet red dew – like berry juice –
Will cover the Strawberry fields

And in the silence of the night
Breaking the gabble of cicadas
Two voices will begin to talk –
Of a guitar and of a sitar

This starlit night, they will be talking
Oh, they have so much to recall
Before the dawn. They’ll stay up late
Oh people, please let’s not disturb them

The moon – the candle of the sky –
Is shining. And a melody
Is now sounding in the night
Let’s just keep silence, standing by

The dawn will bring the lie of daytime
It will mix magic with reality
Oh thank you, John! Oh thank you, George!
Believe us, we have not forgotten you

Under the banner of The Beatles

The twentieth century is wild
An argument of the millenium
There’s been so few grey, boring days
So many storms, so many changes!

Life is a constant fight. Each date
Is flashing, like a fiery comet
We’re moving somewhere, like Titanic,
Into the cold, grey Arctic night

Leaders, reforms and generations
The idols’ glory, their decline
Einstein, Dali, Gagarin, Lenin
And Armstrong’s footsteps on the Moon

The craters are still smoking, left from
The victories and the defeats
The dirge above the nuclear grave
Is sounding – not finished yet

The grass of war – the prose of sorrow –
Is now growing here and there
The century – the wildest ocean –
You hear its cross, ferocious roar

The sharpest sighs of leaden waves
Throw us up and throw us down
Oh, how wild you are, the era
Under the banner of The Beatles!.

CONCERT AT THE SHE STADIUM

Projector light has outshined
The light of distant stars
Today there’s fun, today The Beatles
Are playing at Shea Stadium!
A nervous moan above the field
Today The Beatles are with us!
The giant stadium’s roaring, like
A boisterous tsunami

Somewhere near, a crazy scream
Has pierced the evening air
The obelisk right in the centre –
That’s the concert stage

The stroke of chords just knocks you down
The strings are gently weeping
A sweating cop is running by
The tribunes are on fire

They dance – the troops of rock-n-roll
The ’60-es’ generation
The crazy time, disheveled time
Tossing its shaggy head.
 

Oh let’s get drunk with songs!

Oh let’s get drunk with songs
Like tingling wine
Let’s get drunk with the jingle
Of guitars
Drunk with the flight of voices
With the moans
Of the strings
Oh let’s get drunk
And stay awake all night
Let’s spend the whole night swilling drinks
Let’s taste the red wine – wine of love
The white wine – wine of sorrow
Let’s swear to be friends eternally
Oh, damn it
I’m so drunk that my head swims!
And now my legs can hardly move
Oh let’s get drunk tonight
With songs, my friend
What songs, my friend!
Like wine,
With time,
They’re only getting stronger!.
The energy of our souls
Will reach the unlit stars
Today there’s fun, today The Beatles
Are playing at Shea Stadium!.

Take your guitar, oh Paul McCartney!

Take your guitar, oh Paul McCartney!
And sing for us your songs of love
About our long-ago days
About those days, when we were happy

Take your guitar, oh Paul McCartney!
A wave of hand – and there you go
We shall forget all our sorrows
And if feel sad – then just a bit

Take your guitar, oh Paul McCartney!
We shall forget what time it is
The moon will jump and start to dance -
A yellow ball - up in the sky

Take your guitar, oh Paul McCartney!
Take your guitar, don’t put it down
As long as it is in your arms
Never shall we get old, my friend!.

Lady Linda

No need to be sad, she is not
Gone
See the bird in the evening
Sky?
This is a holy soul
Flying
Beloved woman of a great
Musician.

To the memory of George Harrison

He’s gone. He’s gone for long. For good
Out of the stirrup
A star is shining brightly in
The gulf of time

Left like a man, without despair
Without entreaties
But I can’t say the words “he was”
They won’t come out

The wind is carrying leaves away
And hiding faces
But what if once I called his name
And if he answered?

What if you’re living on the roof
The starlit roof?
You hear me, George?!
And he will say:
Of course I hear you!.

Music Fan

I’m talking to you from the distance
The crowded house is on fire
Maestro! I’m admiring you!
I am your fan, and you my idol!
Dressed in a tail-coat or a T-shirt
A student, padishah or tramp
I’m shaggy, fat or maybe thin
A billionaire or penniless
I’m different: black, white or red
I want to tell you just one thing
For just one concert, where I see you
I’d sacrifice my own self
I’m on the road every day
Where you are – that’s where I must be
Don’t you be strict when judging me
For love’s a thing that can’t be judged
I am your fan, and you are God
Not otherwise. The years may fly
Like snow. But what do the Beatles
Care for the years flying by?!
I’m never going to forsake you!.

Genius

A genius has a special way to go
He can do many things
That we can never do
And just like God
He’s living outside of time
And flashes, like a star
Across the sky
A genius is dying every minute
And then he’s born again
And steps
Into the gulf
Brushing aside his fear
And his despair
He can be light, and happiness
And pain,
He can be everything
And he can do a lot
He is incapable
Of just one thing –
Of killing

For those, who hang around, like a grey shadow
It’s he himself that soon becomes a target .

To Yesterday

This day will end – it won’t last long. Just like a bird,
It will take off and fly away at sunset
To vanish in the twilight of the night
To leave us just a mournful memory

The memory of that far-away land
That misty land that we have never found
As our ship’s been sailing by so fast
In the vast, endless ocean of life

The longer way we go, the more uneasy
We feel. For something we shall never do
Shall never meet, shall never find, shall never reach
That yawning chasm is closer and closer

So is this why, with time, we love it more and more –
The sense of Yesterday, so sad, so far-away
And so evasive in its great simplicity
Like the eternal image of mysterious Madonna.

Give orders, Ringo!
(to Yellow Submarine)
 

Give orders, Ringo! Here we go!
The motors drone in the machine
Today we set out on a voyage
In our Yellow Submarine

The foamy sea wave is in rage
Now calm, and then a hurricane
And the guitar string softly sings
Of wonderful far-away lands

We’ll sail around the whole world
We’ll sail from coast to coast
The blue and windy vast of sea
Will purify our souls

The storm will push you in the chest!
A funny job we do! Hold on!
It’s easy – fall in love with life
In our Yellow Submarine!.

Aunt Mimi

Aunt Mimi’s irritated voice
Her words all oh and ah
Again her naughty nephew John
Has come with a black eye

Aunt Mimi puts a handkerchief
To nephew’s bloody nose
What’s going to become of you?
A sailor – that’s at best

The least you could – just stay indoors
At night, when it’s so dark
Of all the things that you could do
You’ve chosen only one

To hang about – what kind of life!
That’s what you’ve chosen, you!
All day – sit still! – from Fortlin Road
To Menlove Avenue

Just tell me, how you gonna earn
Your piece of daily bread?
And with that George, that pal of yours!
And with that Paul, your friend!

But John is only laughing, damn it!
He grins and touches his black eye
Aunt Mimi, you are right. I’ll make it!
I’ll make it. In a different way.

Throes of Creation

It’s evening. It’s dark outside. And the notes
Are shining, like flags, on the paper
A lonesome composer’s trying to write
He’s sad, poor thing, he’s depressed
He’s seized by the throes of creation
He’s sitting and wasting the ink
He’s waiting for some inspiration
But everything’s done by The Beatles

Whatever he’s trying to write
He gives up, perplexed and confused
For everything’s done by The Beatles
From marches to reggae and blues

Beat, Indian themes, orchestration
All kinds of collage, rock-n-roll
He’s seized by the throes of creation
For EVERYTHING’S written. That’s all.

He laughs at himself and he’s envious
The last word is said by The Beatles
Try putting your head through a lavatory seat?
But no, even that is no novelty!.

Purple coats

Mr. Richards, a perfect tailor
Makes his stitches, like a painter his strokes
They are so well sewn and so fashionable
Those legendary coats of The Beatles

Hamburg City is waiting – let’s go!
In the pubs, there are princes and beggars
There’s a lot of work, and it’s going to be hard
They are going to conquer Hamburg

People’s chatter is covered by the sound of rock
Rock is rushing ahead, through the club, like a train
There’s a burgher, shaking his round belly
There’s a Nazi, banging his mug on the table

There’s a hippie, all dressed in rubbish
Giving little spits of approval
And there shine, like flags, on the stage
Those purple coats of The Beatles.

A Song in Bad Weather

Yawn of day, a tired sigh
No rumours of the birds
And the sun, a pinkish pea
Looking from the cold pale sky

See the lonely tears of rain
Feel the boring breath of fog
And to make this evening happy
Paul is taking his guitar

Chords and chords
The candles throw
Their shadows on the walls
Songs are always born in throes
Even for a great composer

All those talks about good luck
All those old boring talks
But what a pleasure - to put your arms
Around your guitar!

Let the sun be looking sadly
Like a pinkish pea
If a song is playing madly
Life is not that bad.

A Flight over the Gulf

Try to stand on the edge of the gulf
On the shaky edge of the universe
This is harder than driving through plains
Cutting vasts of fields with your Cadillac

Maybe right he is, and it’s better –
One, but powerful moment of flight
Than pass quietly on robot pilot
And fall down at the end of your life

Try to laugh at yourself, just once
Seeing those silver teeth of rocks
Which are waiting to tear you apart
In the mouth of the roaring stream

And the sky will bend, like a beam
Life and death will be put on the scales
If you want to jump – don’t be scared
But, of course, it’s for you to decide.

Dog Martha

Crows caw, but it’s quiet in the house
And McCartney is peacefully sleeping
Martha’s barking, she does not know
That her master is great and famous

That her master has lots of awards
That he plays a splendid guitar
Only Martha, she does not care
Martha loves him without that stuff

She’s his guard – she defends him bravely
From his enemies of different castes
If her master tells her to do it
She will give her life for her master


As for art, if you ask her opinion
Honey pie – that’s no good at all
And all dogs will support her here –
There is nothing as good as bones

You may sing all you like – time flies
You may sing all you like – life is prose
One day Martha, all dressed in bronze
To his obelisk she will crawl

And the sunlight will play on metal
Not on Martha’s shaggy soft hair
But it really does not matter
If his fingers lie on her head.

Sergeant Pepper

His moustache is curled, in his buttonhole
There’s a big red bow
This is Pepper, he’s a retired sergeant
He’s conducting the orchestra

He is through with the war, and he has forgotten
The art of fighting
But he’s learned to kill the sadness and boredom
In our hearts

Now get ready! Aim! Fire! (The orchestra
Is always ready for combat!)
And the foxtrot shoots point-blank, and the marches
Fire a copper volley

And the couples dance to the sound of boston
And the echo repeats the sound
And our Sergeant Pepper, he’s thinking about
Learning to play mazurka

And you see his eyes, so happy and shining
And his cheek, redder than his bow
Let’s applause, my friends, to a military man
With a heart of a great musician.

A Fan’s Prayer

“Here I am,” he said in a low voice
And, squinting, took off his glasses
Bring him back, bring him back, oh Lord!
For a year, for a day, half an hour!

You can do it, you are the creator
Work a miracle, God, bring him back!
And if that is the only way –
Bring him back and take me instead

I’ll fall down in the dumbest depth
Where the darkest clouds have gathered
And for other people, I’ll bring back the magic
Of the wonderful tunes by The Beatles

Oh my Lord! I’m not really asking for much!
Don’t believe in you, but anyway
Let my only and desperate wish come true
I’ll fall down on my knees to pray.

All that I Need
(to All You Need is Love)

It’s so easy, so off-hand
All that I need
It’s so tender, so weighty
It’s only love!

Just believe me, oh people
All that I need
From my birth till my death
It’s only love!

I get older and wiser
All that I need
I won’t give it away
It’s only love!

And the fire in my chest
Will never go out
Even death cannot take it
It’s only love!.

John Lennon Airport

Liverpool. The airport.
Night. Non-flying weather.
And the rain is shedding tears
From the grey sky, without pause

Planes are standing in a row,
Clutching at the concrete runway
Sleeping people, sleeping cars
All the night, but then…

As if a fork has pierced a pancake,
One ray, and then a troop of rays
And over Liverpool – the sun,
Its pink and naked belly

It floods the ground with its light
It drinks the water from the puddles
The navigator, after coffee,
Has lit his tasty cigarette

The tight grey cotton of the clouds
Has disappeared from the sky
The weather’s very changeable –
Just like the moods of a musician

See us off and say good-bye,
Airport. John Lennon Airport.

McCartney Sings Rock

The heart is jumping, like a bird
The mouth twisted by the scream
There on the stage, MacCartney
Sings rock-n-roll for us

The thunder of the rhythm, the howl of the solo
The bass is like a hammer on your ears
And rock is carried far from Liverpool
It’s heard in Russia, in the USA

We’re 12, we are 16 – hey pal, come on,
Don’t stand there like a dummy – move some more!
The roar of rock-n-roll above the world
Hey Paul, come on, sing louder for us!

We are ready, we are eager
To have fun from dawn to dawn
When he stops, we’ll all together
Shout out: Paul, once more!.

Ringo and Beans

Salty foam of the splashing sea
Winds are slapping the liner’s wings
Ringo Starr takes a suitcase of beans with him
As he’s going to Rishekeshe

He has heard that in Indian fields
Tea’s in plenty, it grows like grass
But there is a shortage of beans
That’s a very big disadvantage

All the Indians drink lots of coffee
And persimmons hang on the trees
Ringo does not care for persimmons,
He is crazy about beans

There must be some mystery to it
There is something queer in this!
All the papers are rather embarrassed
Why not peanuts instead of beans?

There will be questions and questions
(There is an answer, we know)
Only Ringo will never answer
He will smile and keep silence instead.

Not for Sale
(to Can’t Buy Me Love)

Three beautiful girls in the bar
Offered their love to buy
Red, white, black
Different love to take
At the bar stand, drinking martini
The three of them praised their goods
They said it was not expensive
Buy and enjoy – that’s simple
You can take it, after you pay
Take it home, or to a hotel
You can use it as long as you want
For an hour, or for a day
That depends on how much you pay
I was desperately longing for love
And I bought it without hesitation
I bought love in a beautiful wrapper
With a clear inscription Sale
In the morning I got my award –
When I woke up, I found beside me
A little cold pile of ashes
The love was as good as burnt
As if I had never had it
With a body, I wanted to buy
The tender white flower of love
I forgot what the song said:
Can’t buy love, love is not for sale!.

The Cavern Club

It’s not for nothing, friends, that we
Have gathered here tonight
The whole evening, we’ll have fun
And talk about The Beatles

Cavern Club, a cozy piece
Of heaven, every rock fan’s dream
A sacred place of Liverpool
A shelter for a beatloman

Among these relics, everyone
Will find what he’s looking for
It’s here that McCartney played
And here, beside him, Lennon

Beat sounded here day and night -
The remedy for getting old
The legendary Beatles sang
Here, in the realm of rock-n-roll!

Cavern Club - it’s here that we
Can feel the history today
Come on, my friends, let’s clap our hands,
And what if Paul appears?!

He will step out of the dark,
And he’ll say: “Hi! Let’s sing!”
Oh yes, my friends, it’s not in vain
We’ve gathered in Cavern!.

A Boy Listening to The Beatles

The moon has clutched at the night with its horns
Hanging high in the sky
The boy has covered his head with the blanket
Listening to The Beatles

The boy’s old walkman clutched in his palm
Lazily chewing the tape
People, just wait a little, be calm
Very soon, the boy will grow up

He will have everything: concerts and fame
Detroit, Mexico, London
The wild and happy swarm of fans
Will boil, like fiery lava

The cat’s stretching lazily on its rug
The boy, he’s only thirteen
And there in the stadium, a wide green carpet
The Beatles are singing for him.

We Love You!
(to She Loves You)
 

We love you! This we know for sure!
Throughout the days, throughout the years
It sounds too faded – very much
The word forever is much better!

Remember! How the wind of songs
Held the blue dome of the sky
The life was like a dazzling chord
The brightest chord of rock-n-roll

We tore the flowers in the gardens
We used to smoke, we used to fight
We hugged our girls, and all the time
We shouted out songs by The Beatles!

The time is faster than a bullet
Like a detective story film
The years have flashed by, just like captions
And everything will finish. But!

Oh life, a merry little horse
You jump ahead, pulling the fate!
If we feel low, we’ll add more sound
And make She Loves You sound louder!.

Playing Love
(to Day Tripper)
 

He: She’s gliding. So strict and haughty
A honey-bunny girl
The blood boils up. So, let’s get started?
Your step more steady, spread your shoulders.

Today I’m looking cool and handsome
Go easy, pal, don’t hurry
Shoot her a glance – it’s like a lasso
She’s caught! Surrender, honey!

She: He’s crawling. Muscles of his hips
Are playing. A rapacious fire
Is in his eyes. Oh poor thing
He’s so naive! Why not, though… Why?
The mini-skirt a little higher
(The waist is swaying, like a snake)
The hip ahead, the lips capricious
The trap has slammed! Oh yes, he’s mine!

A hunter and a victim. Funny,
How strange it is – our sinful world,
The world of people. But how pleasant
It is sometimes – to play this game!.

The Drum

The lot of every drum is rather grave
He’s beaten, like a miserable slave
They knock the spots off him, with their maple stick
But he is humble. All he says is: Ooh!

Deep in his heart, he maybe wants to sing
Just like a sax, its voice so sad and sweet
Or like a violin, with its voice so tender
But he’s a drum! And so he has to suffer.

He is in beat, he’s got a sense of rhythm
He leads the way, he leads the whole band
They follow him – in little steps, or running
For where would they be without the drum!

And he, the drum, is proud of his fate
If he keeps silence only for a second
The melody’s immediately broken
So he’s the most important in the band!.

Planets 4147, 4148, 4149, 4150

The lucent fall. The moonless nights
Just look – you can’t but notice
Four planets, like four amber points,
They glide, like stars, across the sky

The Earth – a giant obelisk –
Is counting dawns, like coins
Four planets move along their orbits
Just like spinning disks

We move through life and slowly fade
We’re trying not to think of death
But these four planets will remain
Forever in the velvet sky

The four immortal little stars
Have reached the dome of the sky
Four fragments of the great epoch
Great era of The Beatles.

Este día terminará. No está por siempre
La luz débil de la puesta del sol distante
La respiración misty de la tarde -
Anuncie de la noche mágica

El aire picante besará sus mejillas
El campo de estrellas sobre su cabeza
Y rocío rojo dulce - como el jugo de la baya -
Cubrirá los campos de la fresa

Y en el silencio de la noche
Romper el gabble de cigarras
Dos voces comenzarán a hablar -
De una guitarra y de un sitar

Esta noche del starlit, hablarán
Oh, tienen tanto recordar
Antes del amanecer. Permanecerán para arriba atrasada
La gente del Oh, disturbémoslos por favor

La luna - la vela del cielo -
Está brillando. Y una melodía
Ahora está sonando en la noche
Apenas guardemos el silencio, haciendo una pausa

El amanecer traerá la mentira del día
Mezclará magia con realidad
¡El Oh le agradece, Juan! ¡El Oh le agradece, George!
Créanos, nosotros no se han olvidado de usted