Edith Piaf — Le Petite Homme (One Little Man)

Жизнь на улице одна и та же каждый день,
Жизнь на улице — изумительная пьеса,
Леди и влюблённые, банкиры и бездомные,
Спешат, в то время как большой город гудит,
Люди хмурятся, в то время как другие веселы,
Музыка раздаётся из каждого кафе,
Здесь всё от изумления жизнью и любовью,
На улице с синим небом в вышине.

Там, в толпе один маленький человек
Спешит,
Не заслуживает ничьего внимания, седеет,
Лишь один маленький человек...

Life in the street is the same every day,
Life in the street is a marvelous play,
Ladies and lovers and bankers and bums,
Hurry along while the big city hums,
People are frowning while others are gay,
Music tumbling from every café,
There's all of the wonder of life and love,
Out in the street with the blue sky above.

There in the crowd one little man,
Hurries along upon his way,
Nobody much, and turning gray,
Just one little man...

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Everything. Everything that happens to you, everything that gave you a smile, people, meaningless things; everything, everything must be appreciated. A person realizes the value of something after his loss. Sometimes you beg the heavens for death, and sometimes — while kneeling — you read every prayer learned before the icon for the sake of salvation, for the sake of life. Every thing, every moment, every second — everything must be appreciated. There will be dark corridors of life when this is taken away from you. Everything will destroy, perhaps life. Everything will be shattered, all memories and moments; you can't get them back. Then you will give your life for the last time to look into the eyes of the person you value most. A happy person is not one who did not have dark corridors of life, a happy person is one who passed these corridors, no matter how difficult and painful it was. After darkness there is always light, for after trial there is always reward. Light is happiness.

They all deserve to die.
Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why.
Because in all of the whole human race
Mrs Lovett, there are two kinds of men and only two
There's the one they put in his proper place
And the one with his foot in the other one's face
Look at me, Mrs Lovett, look at you.

Now we all deserve to die
Even you Mrs. Lovett...even I
Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief
For the rest of us death will be a relief
We all deserve to die.