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Poetry with a tune: "Translation of Lyrics"»  Source text notes: English

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We're lost, but we're making good time.In US English, 'making good time' means 'making good progress' (not 'having fun').
If the world were perfect, it wouldn't be.Grammatically, a contradiction. This adds to the impact of the remark.
I'm not going to buy my kids an encyclopedia. Let them walk to school like I did.'encyclopedia' sounds like something you could ride to school on. (That's the only reason this quote is notable.)

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Source text segment #9

Then I headed down the street, And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing, And it echoed through the canyon Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

Notes about this source segment

Rank by:
+1
"Dio" doesn´t have an accent...

Apart from the spelling mistake, to me the translation sounds somehow more informal than the original text.
Y partí, calle abajo.
En algún rincón lejano tañía solitaria una campana.
Su eco rebotaba en el barranco,
sueño de ayer ya sin mañana.
Uputih se niz ulicu zatim,
a udarac usamljenog zvona
u dolini poput snova nestalih jučer
odjeknuo je daleko negdje.
-1
De ahí mientras caminaba en la calle, por algún lugar sonaba una campana solitaria, Y dió un eco por el cañón Como los sueños del ayer que desaparecían.
-1

Uputih se niz ulicu zatim,
a udarac usamljenog zvona
u dolini poput snova nestalih jučer
odjeknuo je daleko negdje.

Source text

Full source text (11)

#1 Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down (10)

#2 Well, I woke up Sunday morning With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt. And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad, So I had one more for dessert. (10)

#3 Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes And found my cleanest dirty shirt. Then I washed my face and combed my hair And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day. (6)

#4 I'd smoked my mind the night before With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking. But I lit my first and watched a small kid Playing with a can that he was kicking. (8)

#5 Then I walked across the street And caught the Sunday smell of someone's frying chicken. And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost Somewhere, somehow along the way. (7)

#6 On a Sunday morning sidewalk, I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned. 'Cause there's something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone. (7)

#7 And there's nothing short a' dying That's half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down. (6)

#8 In the park I saw a daddy With a laughing little girl that he was swinging. And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the songs they were singing. (2)

#9 Then I headed down the street, And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing, And it echoed through the canyon Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday. (5)