Текст песни A Passion Play (Part 2) (Jethro Tull) с переводом

The Story Of The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles

This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles

Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching

Sitting on a fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close

by

Now this may not seem strange, but when Owl overheard Kangaroo whisper to no

one in particular

«The hare has lost his spectacles,» well, he began to wonder

Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on the grass

was hare

In the stream that flowed by the grass a newt

And sitting astride a twig of a bush a bee

Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement

For without his spectacles he appeared completely helpless

Where were his spectacles? Could someone have stolen them?

Had he mislaid them? What was he to do?

Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began:

«You probably ate them thinking they were a carrot.»

«No!» interrupted Owl, who was wise

«I have good eye-sight, insight, and foresight

How could an intelligent hare make such a silly mistake?»

But all this time, Owl had been sitting on the fence, scowling!

A Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk

She thought herself far superior in intelligence to the others

She was their leader, their guru. She had the answer:

«Hare, you must go in search of the optician.»

But then she realized that Hare was completely helpless without his spectacles

And so, Kangaroo loudly proclaimed, «I can’t send Hare in search of anything!»

«You can guru, you can!» shouted Newt

«You can send him with Owl.»

But Owl had gone to sleep

Newt knew too much to be stopped by so small a problem

«You can take him in your pouch.»

But alas, Hare was much too big to fit into Kangaroo’s pouch

All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew nothing

about spectacles

As for all their tempting ideas, well Hare didn’t care

The lost spectacles were his own affair

And after all, Hare did have a spare a-pair

Forest Dance No.2

Instrumental part

The Foot Of Our Stairs

We sleep by the ever-bright hole in the door

Eat in the corner, talk to the floor

Cheating the spiders who come to say «Please», (politely)

They bend at the knees

Well, I’ll go to the foot of our stairs

Old gentlemen talk of when they were young

Of ladies lost, of erring sons

Lace-covered dandies revel (with friends)

Pure as the truth, tied at both ends

Well I’ll go to the foot of our stairs

Scented cathedral spire pointed down

We pray for souls in Kentish Town

A delicate hush

The gods, floating by

Wishing us well

Pie in the sky

God of Ages, Lord of Time

Mine is the right, right to be wrong

Well I’ll go to the foot of our stairs

Jack rabbit mister spawn a new breed of love-hungry pilgrims (no bodies to feed)

Show me a good man and I’ll show you the door

The last hymn is sung and the devil cries «More.»

Well, I’m all for leaving and that being done

I’ve put in a request to take up my turn

In that forsaken paradise that calls itself «Hell»

Where no-one has nothing and nothing is- well -meaning fool

Pick up thy bed and rise up from your gloom smiling

Give me your hate and do as the loving heathen do

Overseer Overture

Colours I’ve none dark or light, red, white or blue

Cold is my touch (freezing)

Summoned by name — I am the overseer over you

Given this command to watch o’er our miserable sphere

Fallen from grace, called on to bring sun or rain

Occasional corn from my oversight grew

Fell with mine angels from a far better place

Offering services for the saving of face

Now you’re here, you may as well admire

All whom living has retired from the benign reconciliation

Legends were born surrounding mysterious lights

Seen in the sky (flashing)

I just lit a fag then took my leave in the blink of an eye

Passionate play join round the maypole in dance

(primitive rite) (wrongly)

Summoned by name — I am the overseer over you

Flight From Lucifer

Flee the icy Lucifer

Oh he’s an awful fellow!

What a mistake!

I didn’t take a feather from his pillow

Here’s the everlasting rub: neither am I good nor bad

I’d give up my halo for a horn and the horn for the hat I once had

I’m only breathing

There’s life on my ceiling

The flies there are sleeping quietly

Twist my right arm in the dark. I would give two or three for

One of those days that never made impressions on the old score

I would gladly be a dog barking up the wrong tree

Everyone’s saved we’re in the grave

See you there for afternoon tea

Time for awaking the tea lady’s making

A brew-up and baking new bread

Pick me up at half past none

There’s not a moment to lose

There is the train on which I came

On the platform are my old shoes

Station master rings his bell

Whistles blow and flags wave

A little of what you fancy does you good (Or so it should)

I thank everybody for making me welcome

I’d stay but my wings have just dropped off

10.08 To Paddington=

Instrumental part

Magus Perdé

Hail! Son of kings make the ever-dying sign

Cross your fingers in the sky

For those about to BE

There am I waiting along the sand

Cast your sweet spell upon the land and sea

Magus Perdé, take your hand from off the chain

Loose a wish to still, the rain, the storm about to BE

Here am I (voyager into life)

Tough are the soles that tread the knife’s edge

Break the circle, stretch the line, call upon the devil

Bring the gods, the gods' own fire

In the conflict revel

The passengers upon the ferry crossing, waiting to be born

Renew the pledge of life’s long song rise to the reveille horn

Animals queuing at the gate that stands upon the shore

Breathe the ever-burning fire that guards the ever-door

Man — son of man — buy the flame of ever-life

(Yours to breathe and breath the pain of living): living BE!

Here am I! Roll the stone away

From the dark into ever-day

Epilogue

There was a rush along the Fulham Road

Into the Ever-passion Play