Бесы - Марсельеза Против Августины - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

"... that he invented a new special little thing on the piano, and persuaded her only to listen to her. The little thing was actually a funny, as a funny name:" Franco-Prussian war. "It began with the formidable sounds of Marseilles:

"Qu'UN SANG Impur Abreuve Nos Sillons!"

There was a pompous challenge, rapture by future victories. But suddenly, along with masterfully varyed tactes of the anthem, somewhere on the side, below, in the corner, but very close, the nasty sounds of Mein Lieber augustin were heard. The Marseille does not notice them, the Marseille at the highest point of rapture with its grandeur; But Augustin is strengthened, Augustin is more and more impudent, and this is the Augustin tactes somehow unexpectedly begin to coincide with the tactes of Marseelusa. She begins to be angry; She finally notices Augustin, she wants to discard her, drive her away as an obsessive insignificant fly, but Mein Lieber Augustin clutched tightly; She is cheerful and self -confident; She is joyful and impudent; And the Marseille somehow suddenly stupidly stupid: she no longer hides that she is annoyed and offended; This is the cries of indignation, these are tears and oaths with hands pronounced to Providence:

PAS Un Pouce de Notre Terrain, Pas Une Pierre de Nos Forteresses!

But she is already forced to sing with Mein Lieber Augustin in one beat. Her sounds are somehow stupid in Augustin, she bows, goes out. Occasionally, only, a breakthrough, it will be heard again: "Qu'un sang impour ...", but immediately overcrowlessly jumps into a nasty waltz. She humbles himself completely: this is Jules Favr, which sobs on the chest of Bismarck and gives everything, everything ... But then Augustin is already fierce: sipper sounds are heard, it is felt immensely drunk beer, the rabies of self -jam, the requirements of billions, thin cigars, champagne and hostages; Augustin goes into a frantic roar ... The Franco-Prussian war ends. Ours are applauding, Julia Mikhailovna smiles and says: "Well, how to drive him away?" The world is concluded. The bastard really had a talent. "

F.M. Dostoevsky "Demons"