I am the phoenix contradictions мой феникс на англ

Ну что решила на Китае не останавливаться))). А вот и английский вариант моей такой популярной песни Я-Феникс-Противоречия! Стихи Мои Перевод тоже Мой. Ну что запускаем Феникса летать?
И опять получилось две изумительные версии выбрать никак не получется Поэтому оставляем обе. Слушать по ССылке в ВК:

https://vk.ru/audio119926291_456239183_b039a5e10cf1f457d8

https://vk.ru/audio119926291_456239182_8aa38eb2dc6c228cc4



I am the phoenix contradictions



To burn! To burn to ashes, down to the core!
And rise again, reborn once more!
One single story, told before,
To repeat itself, forevermore!
I always dreamed of being a bird,
Of flying so high, every word,
To race and rush into the sky, soaring high,
But I never became a phoenix, never took flight.
Why did the passion blaze so bright?
Why did the fire burn day and night?
So that your soul would turn, ice-cold and tight,
Colder than the deepest frost, out of sight?
As they say—for the blade to be true and strong,
The steel must be forged, hard and long.
Tempered by fire, shaped by flame,
And by water, too—it’s the same.
I always dreamed of being a bird,
Of flying so high, every word,
To race and rush into the sky, soaring high,
But I never became a phoenix, never took flight.
To love! To dream! To suffer, without rest!
To rise up high, above the rest!
To suffer and stay awake through every night,
And hate with a fury, burning bright!
Raise them to a pedestal, lift them so high,
Exalt them to the status of gods in the sky.
Then crush it all beneath your feet, without grace,
Turn everything to dust, erase every trace.
I always dreamed of being a bird,
Of flying so high, every word,
To race and rush into the sky, soaring high,
But I never became a phoenix, never took flight.
To love—just to unlove, in the end,
To be happy—only to suffer again.
To lift them up—just to tear them down,
To hold them close—to hate the sound.
What for? The arena of feelings, unkind?
What for? This passion, raw and blind?
To make the blood run faster in your veins,
To feel the rush, to break the chains?
I always dreamed of being a bird,
Of flying so high, every word,
To race and rush into the sky, soaring high,
But I never became a phoenix, never took flight.
To love—why? Just to live, that’s all,
But to love is to burn—that’s the call.
And now, you’ve lived enough years to know,
The truth of fire, the way it goes.
And any great fire, no matter how grand,
Will burn to ashes, across the land.
For fire needs air, and it needs its fuel,
Without them, the flame will lose its rule.
I always dreamed of being a bird,
Of flying so high, every word,
To race and rush into the sky, soaring high,
But I never became a phoenix, never took flight.
The wind—a storm of feelings, wild and vast—
Just scatters sparks, burning fast.
And the rain, most likely, will come to stay,
To douse the flames, to take them away.
Why suffer in vain? Why burn for naught?
To wait for meetings, hope they’ll last?
Only to forget them all in the end,
As if they never mattered, my friend.
How many times have you risen from the ash?
Burned in the fire of love, and burned to the last?
Is it worth it to try, to keep on trying,
When you still haven’t become that bird, still flying?
So is it worth it to keep on striving?
Even though you’re still not that phoenix, alive?
You never truly became that bird of flame,
That soars above the world, free from pain.
I always dreamed of being a bird,
Of flying so high, every word,
To race and rush into the sky, soaring high,
But I never became a phoenix, never took flight.
I always dreamed of being a bird,
Of flying so high, every word,
To race and rush into the sky, soaring high,
But I never became a phoenix, never took flight