Carmina burana Page #2

 
IMDB:
7.4
Year:
1975
63 min
46 Views


they want to do without a man

all, all, all

all summer long.

Ah! Sla!

Come, come, my love,

I long for you,

I long for you,

come, come, my love.

Sweet rose-red lips,

come and make me better,

come and make me better,

sweet rose-red lips.

Those who go round and round

Those who go round and round

are all maidens,

are all maidens,

they want to do without a man

they want to do without a man

all, all, all,

all summer long.

Ah! Sla!

If all the world were mine

from the sea to the Rhine,

I would do without it

I would do without it

if the Queen of England

of England

would lie...

in my arms.

Hey!

Burning inside with violent anger,

bitterly I speak to my heart:

created from matter,

of the ashes of the elements,

lam like a leaf

played with by the winds.

If it is the way of the wise man

to build foundations on stone, then

lam a fool, like a flowing stream,

which in its course never changes.

I am carried along

like a ship without a steersman,

and in the paths of the air

like a light, hovering bird;

chains cannot hold me,

keys cannot imprison me,

I look for people like me

and join the wretches.

The heaviness of my heart

seems a burden to me;

it is pleasant to joke

and sweeter than honeycomb;

whatever Venus commands

is a sweet duty,

she never dwells

in a lazy heart.

I travel the broad path

as is the way of youth,

I give myself to vice,

unmindful of virtue,

I am eager for

the pleasures of the flesh

more than for salvation,

my soul is dead,

so I shall look after the flesh.

Once

I lived on lakes,

once

I looked beautiful

when a swan

i

Was.

Misery me! Misery me!

Now black

and roasting fiercely!

The servant is turning me

on the spit;

lam burning

fiercely on the pyre:

the steward now serves me up.

Misery me! Misery me!

Now black

and roasting fiercely!

Now on a plate

I lie.

And cannot fly anymore,

bared teeth

I see:

Misery me! Misery me!

Now black

and roasting fiercely!

N---

N---

I am the abbot, the abbot,

The abbot of Cockaigne

and my assembly is one of drinkers,

and I wish to be

in the order of Decius,

and whoever searches me out

at the tavern in the morning,

after Vespers he will leave naked,

and thus stripped of his clothes

thus stripped of his clothes

he will call out:

Woe!

Woe!

Woe!

Woe!

What have you done, vilest Fate?

Woe! Woe! Woe!

The joys of my life

you have taken all away!

Woe! Woe! Woe!

Haha!

When we are in the tavern, we do

not think how we will go to dust,

but we hurry to gamble,

which always makes us sweat.

What happens in the tavern,

where money is host,

you may well ask,

and hear what I say.

You may well ask,

and hear what I say.

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