There was one guy and he, like me,
|
loved both the Beatles and the Rolling Stones,
|
Wandering with a guitar, sang their songs,
|
Coming to us from America.
|
It was not difficult to understand him
|
Those songs make sense
|
He sang both "Help!" and "Ticket To Ride"
|
And "Lady Jane" and "Yesterday"
|
He hated war and death,
|
Everyone said "Well done!"
|
Suddenly a letter was handed to him:
|
“Come back to America immediately!”
|
"Stop!" Rolling Stones!
|
"Stop!" The Beatles, "Stop!"
|
You must go to Vietnam
|
Shoot there, fight...
|
(Tata-tata-ta, tata-tata-ta…)
|
There was one guy and he, like me,
|
loved both the Beatles and the Rolling Stones,
|
I only dreamed about these songs,
|
when Vietnam was on fire.
|
Changed hairstyle - military helmet,
|
The guitar is a new instrument
|
He wanted to shout "Down with the war!"
|
But it was heard "..."
|
Like the song of death there was a cry,
|
And blood and darkness mixed in an instant...
|
End of hopes, end of dreams
|
But there is no end to my poems -
|
"Stop!" Rolling Stones!
|
"Stop!" The Beatles, "Stop!"
|
And "Stop!" for a young life,
|
Don't cry, guitar, sing!..
|
(Tata-tata-ta, tata-tata-ta…) |