Garbage Wind - Crematorium
Мусорный ветер – Крематорий (1988)
The song “Garbage Wind” was written by Armen Grigoryan, the leader of the band “Crematorium”, under the impression of the story of Andrey Platonov. After the actual disappearance of the Aral Sea, the picture of the world in the “Garbage Wind” is perceived as a very likely scenario.
Initially Grigoryan wrote the song for the play “Drums in the Night” by Bertolt Brecht, which was supposed to be staged at the Moscow Youth Theater. However, the play was canceled, and it was decided to include the song into the repertoire of “Crematorium”.
The first public performance of the song took place on March 10, 1987 on the television bridge “Moscow Rock Laboratory – Leningrad Rock Club”. In 1988, the song was included the album “Coma”.
Since then, the song became one of the most famous songs of the band and is performed at every concert.
Lyrics and translation
Му́сорный ве́тер, дым из трубы́,
Плач приро́ды, смех сатаны́,
А всё оттого́, что мы
Люби́ли лови́ть ве́тра и разбра́сывать ка́мни.Garbage wind, chimney smoke,
The cry of nature, the laugh of Satan,
And all that because we
Loved to catch the wind and throw stones.
Песо́чный го́род, постро́енный мной,
Давным давно́ смыт волно́й.
Мой взгляд похо́ж на твой,
В нём нет ничего́, кро́ме снов и забы́того сча́стья.The sand city built by me
Have been washed away by a wave a long time ago.
My look is like yours,
There is nothing in it but dreams and forgotten happiness.
Дым на не́бе, дым на земле́,
Вме́сто люде́й маши́ны,
Мёртвые ры́бы в иссо́хшей реке́,
Злово́нный зной пусты́ни.
Моя́ смерть разру́бит це́пи сна,
Когда́ мы бу́дем вме́сте!Smoke in the sky, smoke on the ground,
Cars instead of people.
Dead fish in a withered river,
Fetid heat of the desert.
My death will cut the chains of sleep,
When we will be together!
Ты умна́, а я идио́т,
И нева́жно, кто из нас раздаёт,
Да́же е́сли мне повезёт,
И в мое́й руке́ бу́дет туз, в твое́й бу́дет джо́кер.You're smart and I'm an idiot,
And it doesn’t matter which of us plays out,
Even if I'm lucky,
And I have an ace in my hand, you have a joker in yours.
Так не бо́йся, ми́лая, ляг на снег.
Слепо́й худо́жник напи́шет портре́т,
Воспоёт твои́ фо́рмы поэ́т,
И ста́нет звездо́й актёр бродя́чего ци́рка.So do not be afraid, darling, lay down on the snow.
A blind artist will paint a portrait,
A poet will sing about your forms,
And an actor of a traveling circus will become a star.
Дым на не́бе, дым на земле́,
Вме́сто люде́й маши́ны,
Мёртвые ры́бы в иссо́хшей реке́,
Злово́нный зной пусты́ни.
Моя́ смерть разру́бит це́пи сна,
Когда́ мы бу́дем вме́сте!Smoke in the sky, smoke on the ground,
Cars instead of people.
Dead fish in a withered river,
Fetid heat of the desert.
My death will cut the chains of sleep,
When we will be together!
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