ú?½ 
1¡¢The Ballad of Mack the Knife
¡¶!÷u¶¡·
¸ú´ú»¸ö øÀµc¬º£2 ÷¢ úÁ »; ö´5üp¸£¬ ÷÷ò²ìsºõ  ÷ý  5!÷u¶¡£¿ ô¦ ö5÷ù«4µ´£¬£·¨ ì5 ²ô#¿

Bertolt Brecht / Kurt Weill

And the shark has teeth
And he wears them in his face
And Macheath, he has a knife,
But the knife one does not see.

On a nice, clear-skied Sunday
A dead man lies on the beach.
And a man sneaks round the corner
Whom they all call Mack the Knife.

And Schmul Meier disappeared for good
And many a rich man
And Mack the Knife has all his money,
Though you cannot prove a thing.

Jenny Towler was found
With a knife stuck in her chest.
At the docks Macheath is walking,
Who doesn¡¯t know a single thing.

And in Soho, the great fire
Did in seven kids and one old man-
In the crowd is Mack the Knife, who
Isn¡¯t quizzed and knows nothing at all.

And the widow, still a minor,
whose name is known to all
Woke up and got raped:
Mack, what was the price to pay?

2¡¢I¡¯m a stranger here myself
¡¶À »¸ö0 úá·
¸ú´ú÷ù«»³v õ=.ì »þ£¬øÁ¢²»°²¡£ ·¨ýþ¶7½µü£¬½ø Á½®¼ e§Á ¡£®¸?®µÀ£¬-À´°®uÁ ì<º»¹ »¸ö0 úá£

Kurt Weill / Ogden Nash

(One Touch Of Venus)

Tell me is love still a popular suggestion,
Or merely an obsolete art?
Forgive me for asking this simple question,
I¡¯m unfamiliar with his heart,
I¡¯m a stranger here myself.

Why is it wrong to murmur I adore him,
When it¡¯s shamefully obvious, I do?
Does love embarrass him or does it bore him?
I¡¯m only waiting for my cue,
Because I¡¯m a stranger here myself.

I dream of a day of a gay warm day,
With my fate between his hands.
Have I missed my path, have I gone astray?
I ask and no one understands.

Love me or leave me, that seems to be the question;
I don¡¯t know the tactics to use.
But if he should offer a personal suggestion.
How could I possibly refuse,
When I¡¯m a stranger here myself.

Please tell me, tell a stranger by curiosity goaded,
Is there really any danger that love is now outmoded?
I¡¯m interested especially in knowing why you waste it;
True romance is so fleshly, with what have you replaced it?
What is your latest foible? Is Gin Rummy more exquisite?
Is skiing more enjoyable? For haeven¡¯s sake what is it.

I can¡¯t believe that love has lost it¡¯s glamour,
That passion is really pass¨¦?
It gender is just a term in grammar,
How can I ever find my way,
Since I¡¯m a stranger here myself.

How can he ignore my available condition ¨C
Why these Victorian views?
You see here before you a woman with a mission;
I must discover the key to his agnition.
And then if he should make a diplomatic proposition,
How could I possibly refuse,
When I¡¯m a stranger here myself.

3¡¢Alabama Song
¡¶°¢À­°  ®¸w
¸ú´ú¸ú½² öÁð¢À­°  ö þ¿¼u0®£¬òm°§À® ¶¼ò»¶»¨µ!îº »±­¡£´ û ¡°p»¼ þ¿¼~°a±µ· ã¬þ£¬ ú»c
(Kurt Weill / Bertolt Brecht)

Oh show us the way to the next whisky bar.
Oh don't ask why,
For we must find the next whisky bar.
For if we don't find the next whiskey bar,
I tell you we must die.

Oh Moon of Alabama we now must say good-bye.
We've lost our good old mamma
And must have whiskey, oh you know why.

Oh show us the way to the next little dollar.
Oh don't ask why,
For we must find the next little dollar.
For if we don't find the next little dollar,
I tell you we must die.

Oh Moon of Alabama we now must say good-bye.
We've lost our good old mamma
And must have dollars ,oh you know why.

Oh show us the way to the next pritty boy.
Oh don't ask why,
For we must find the next pritty boy.
For if we don't find the next pritty boy,
I tell you we must die.

4¡¢Speak Low
¡¶µ ÷¡·
¸ú´ú÷ù«¶<ºµÁµ㬸?® î꣬±¹· a£°® ²±¼®· ì õ±¿  êò¼´ c¬´ ªçµ±£¬³}²µ;²¼ ´£¬¾¡q ´c

Kurt Weill / Ogden Nash

Speak low when you speak, love,
Our summer day withers away
Too soon, too soon.
Speak low when you speak, love,
Our moment is swift, like ships adrift,
We¡¯re swept apart too soon.

Speak low darling, speak low
Love is a spark lost in the dark
Too soon, too soon,
I feel wherever I go
That tomorrow is near,
Tomorrow is here and always too soon.

Time is so old and love so brief,
Love is pure gold and time a thief.
We¡¯re late darling, we¡¯re late
The curtain descends, everything ends
Too soon, too soon
I wait darling, I wait
Will you speak low to me,
Speak love to me and soon.

5¡¢My Ship
¡¶µ4¬¡·
¸ú´ú¸úÀõ÷ù«» }­À¶43öÀ´µ>ø¶¥ºô¬£¬´¬  ý²»uf ¯£¬¹²¶ᣠû» ì ´¬ ûÀµ8 ùª û´øÀ´<º úü5.¡£

Kurt Weill /

My ship has sails that are made of silk.
The decks are trimmed with gold,
And of jam and spice there¡¯s a paradise in the hold.
My shop¡¯s a glow with a million pearls and rubies fill each bin.
The sun sits high in a sapphire sky when my ship comes in.
I can wait the years till it appears one fine day one spring.
But the pearls as such they won¡¯t mean much
It there¡¯s missing just one thing.
I do not care, if that day arrives. That dream need never be
If the ship I sing doesn¡¯t also bring my own true love to me.

6¡¢Jenny¡¯s Song
¡¶®¸w
¸ú´ú »¸ö8ö5nº¢¶ù£¬ ý¸°®¸º£¬ª»1ü³¶ÀÁ¢µ8ö: ²¸öÿuµ ú´c

Bertolt Brecht / Kurt Weill

Now, you gents, hear what my mother told me.
She thought me a shocking case:
I¡¯d end on a slab in the mortuary
Or in some even more shocking place.
Well, that¡¯s the sort of thing a mother says.
Yes, but I¡¯m telling you it doesn¡¯t count.
It won¡¯t put me off in the least.
If you want to know what comes of me, just wait!
A girl¡¯s not a beast.
You lie in your bed as you made it
For the law of the jungle is strict
And it¡¯s me what is doing the kicking
And it¡¯s you what is going to get kicked.

Now, you gents, hear what my fellow told me.
He gave me a look and said:
¡°Of all things on earth love¡¯s the greatest¡±
And ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s a long way ahead¡±.
Oh, love¡¯s such an east word to speak
But when you¡¯re growing older day by day
It¡¯s no longer love that you seek.
So best use the little time that¡¯s left you.
A girl¡¯s not a beast.
You lie in your bed as you made it
For the law of the jungle is strict
And it¡¯s me what is doing the kicking
And it¡¯s you what is going to get kicked.

7¡¢Cannon Song
¡¶¼i®¸w
¸ú´ú¸ú½² öÁ ¿±øü?5}µ ú»ì ú±·ò ¶ £¬ Àºä 쨻µ< #¬¾ ù}³¡ 1£üµ<i¡£

Bertolt Brecht / Kurt Weill

George marched with us and Jim came along
And George, the sergeant, gave the orders.
Soldiers are men, they¡¯re above right or wrong
We were soon marching north to the borders.
What soldiers live for
Is shooting cannon
From Cape to Cooch Behar
And if it rained one night
And we should chance to sight
Brown or black or white men
Who cares if they¡¯re the right men
It¡¯s certain we will chop them into beefsteak tartare.

Johnny would complain that the whisky was too warm
And Jimmy never had enough blankets
Then George would take both by the arm
And tell them that ¡°The army life was worth it¡±.
What soldiers live for
Is shooting cannon
From Cape to Cooch Behar
And if it rained one night
And we should chance to sight
Brown or black or white men
Who cares if they¡¯re the right men
It¡¯s certain we will chop them into beefsteak tartare.

Johnny is buried and Jimmy is dead
And George was killed in a battle
But don¡¯t forget that blood is still red
And they¡¯re recruiting once more for the slaughter.
What soldiers live for
Is shooting cannon
From Cape to Cooch Behar
And if it rained one night
And we should chance to sight
Brown or black or white men
Who cares if they¡¯re the right men
It¡¯s certain we will chop them into beefsteak tartare.

8¡¢Lili Marleen
¡¶ÀÀ- Á«¡·
¸ú´ú }µxì öÁ ¿±ø. ¹ êºtµ ®¼²» w±53¡¾°¡£ » ôþü¶ù¥Á÷À´µ7´}¸ú£¬²  À½Á÷À· õ>­µc1915µ»´ À½ô}#¬µ¹ú¿±øººù-À³¶ ¹ú}³¡4 «£¬1938 u¶û²® - ¶û´ª÷ú¡£¡ª¡ªx4ö' òøìjºwu}³¡ ýx4¶Á÷vÀºû5> Áµ¡£ á¶ÀÀ- Á«¡·® ùú5ªµ-ú}ù u2»½ö ð®ì}ù´øÁ +¶Àºõ6«÷¡­

Musik: Norbert Schulze
Text: Hans Leip

Vor der Kaserne, vor dem großen Tor,
stand eine Laterne, und steht sie noch davor.
So woll¡¯n wir uns da wiederseh¡¯n,-
Bei der Laterne woll¡¯n wir stehn,
wie einst Lili Marleen.

Uns¡¯re beiden Schatten sah¡¯n wie einer aus,
daß wir lieb uns hatten, das sah man gleich daraus.
Und alle Leute soll¡¯n es seh¡¯n, wenn wir bei der Laterne steh¡¯n,
wie einst Lili Marleen.

Schon rief der Posten, sie bliesen Zapfenstreich.
Es kann drei Tage kosten Kamerad, ich komm¡¯ ja gleich.
Da sagten wir auf Wiederseh¡¯n. Wie gerne w¨¹rd¡¯ ich mit dir geh¡¯n
mit die Lili Marleen.

Deine Schritte kennt sie, deinen schönen Gang.
Aller Abend brennt sie, doch dich vergaß sie lang.
Und sollte mir ein Leid gescheh¡¯n, wer wird ber der Laterne steh¡¯n,
mit dir Lili Marleen.

Aus dem stillen Raume, aus der Erde Grund,
hebt mich wie im Traume dein verliebter Mund.
Wenn sich die späten Nebel dreh¡¯n, werd¡¯ ich ber der Laterne steh¡¯n,
wie einst Lili Marleen.

9¡¢I don¡¯t know to whom I belong
¡¶²»ªµÀ<º í¡·
¸ú´ú÷ù«ª¸ æ¸ øùöø³õ#¬¿ µöµ0®Áµ4 ó¯<:裬ü p¡£´ ý  û²£¬3 £¬j²»<ºµ½µ í£¬µ½µæ¸ í¡£

Friedrich Hollaender

When men talk of love that is faithful and true,
I just turn away and smile.
Novelty is the essence of love,
Fidelity isn¡¯t my stile.
Emotions that seem eternal at night
Can dissolve in the morning sun.
Love is for hours or moments of bliss.
Fidelity isn¡¯t much fun.

I don¡¯t know whom I belong to.
I¡¯m too good to waste on one guy.
If I swear to be true to you, my friend,
I¡¯ll just make another man cry.
Should beauty give pleasure to one man alone?
The sun and the stars are for all to see.
I don¡¯t know whom I belong to,
Unless I belong to me.

One guy caresses me gently,
Another is manly and rough.
If ever I found my Mister Right,
He wouldn¡¯t be quite enough.
When a lover enfolds me in his arms
I am blissful, contented, serene.
But if next day I catch another man¡¯s eye
Then it¡¯s time for a change of scene.

10¡¢Falling in love again
¡¶.ºá·
¸ú´ú¼´¹~­¾­Àú¹ý°®u¶¨㬱¥³¢5  ?À±£¬÷ù«·¨0µ»´.ºá£À§»<ºªº5°®u{®ì ýã û´µµ½.¡£

Friedrich Hollaender (Lyrics & Music)
Englisch words by Reg Connelly

I often stop and wonder why I appeal to men
How many times I blunder in love and out again.
They offer me devotion I like it I confess
When I reflect emotion there¡¯s no need to guess.

I¡¯m falling in love again, never wanted to,
What am I to do, I can¡¯t help it.
Love¡¯s always been my game, play it how I may,
I was made that way, I can¡¯t help it.
Men cluster to me like moths around a flame,
And if their wings burn I know I¡¯m not to blame,
I¡¯m falling in love again, never wanted to,
What am I to do, I can¡¯t help it.

I often stop and wonder why I appeal to men ¡­

11¡¢The Fashion song
¡¶± ®¸w
¸ú´úh¹ý¶»¸öµ 3÷´°À±ð# 54£¬½² öÁ ± 7ñ¶nº¢õð´°õ2»¶ø1ìlÁ¦üýqõ ùµl±£¬ Á µ1¾c

On display in the windows of mankind today
Stands a slip of a waif hardly moving
She appears to be proud for she puffs out her chest
But those breasts sure could use some improving!
She¡¯s got something on it¡¯s a hint of a dress-
Well there isn¡¯t that much to cover!
She¡¯s hipless and bustles and probably lust less
The fact is there¡¯s not much left of her.
She spreads out her arms and she twirls about
Who is she what is she, could she be! Who knows!
Oh who is this strange exclamation point!
Whose anguish moves us to compassion!
She¡¯s either some messenger sent from hell
Or else she¡¯s the true height of fashion!

This year¡¯s season premiere was a gala affair
Where the fashions were up to the minute
But the crowd was surprised when a strange car arrived
They all guesses as to who could be in it!
They gasped when they saw sticks and bones in a dress!
This group was incredibly snooty!
But the critic of note had not yet cast his vote-
When he did he proclaimed her a ¡°beauty¡±!
She spreads out her arms and she twirls about
Who is she what is she, could she be! Who knows!
Who is this strange exclamation point!
Who¡¯s drained of all life and all passion!
She stands there our angel of death so frail
I choose her the new muse of fashion!

The new fashions have rich women starving to death-
To be stylish is their chief enjoyment
While the girls on the street never get much to eat,
Which is why, they don¡¯t quit their employment!
One starves for style one makes love to survive!
The fact is that neither is eating!
One might even say that the look of today
And the look of the night are competing!
She spreads out her arms and she twirls about
Who is she what is she, could she be! who knows!
Who is this strange exclamation point
Whose face is so hollow and ashen!
Does she invite you to a ¡°Liebestod¡±!
Or a bit of professional passion!

12¡¢Dreams of Yesterday
¡¶®¡·
¸ú´ú¸ú± ´Á ÷ù«¶9ý%Àº ú»µ> Áµ£¬¸?®»¾5À±®º ÷õ</¸ #¬» û uÁµ u¾³t;c

Mischa Spoliansky / Ray Collins

Dreams of yesterday stay within my heart,
for a dream will stay,
though dreamers have to part.
Through a mist of tears
I will find that I¡¯m
walking through the years to once upon a time.

And then I close my eyes and see
The magic world that uses to be
A magic world of memory
Where I shall remember
The candle light and wine,
A lonely hand that touches mine
And then a sigh that tries to say: ¡±Good bye¡±

Now we¡¯re far apart
And I walk alone
Safe within my heart
Are dreams I call my own.
Though we loved in vain
I will always pray
We shall meet again in dreams of yesterday.

13¡¢Alone in a big city
¡¶´ó Àõ9¼a·
¸ú´ú¸ú± ´Á ÷ù«¹ » »ù´ó À ú»ìû²¶0®u |ö®!£°®u £¬ ú»5$¶ø³µ£¬;º°® ® ì¹¼u8>õ òøw¡£

Music / Text: Franz Waxmann /Max Colpet
Translation: Julian Forsight

Living in a big city, you can feel so alone
While you wait for the man of your dreams.
You¡¯ve never seen his face,
But you¡¯ll know him when you see him,
Though you¡¯re frightened he might pass you by.
So you search for him amongst the crowd,
Saving yourself for him alone
Until, suddenly, he¡¯s standing there before you.
Then, lo and behold, you don¡¯t know what to say
So everything you think of sounds so trite.
Where once you could talk nineteen to the dozen,
Now all of a sudden you stutter.
Everything you¡¯d planned to say the moment you met
Goes clean out of your head,
For the look in his eyes tells you
That he knows all there is to know.

You now have everything you want
And can even begin to feel happy.
All at once the big city seems peaceful
And you¡¯re content to live just for him.
No clouds on the horizon, it¡¯s a beautiful time.
Your only fear is that it cannot last,
And secretly you¡¯re dreading there before you.
Then, lo and behold, you don¡¯t know what to say
For everything you think of sounds so trite.
And for a man who never used to say very much,
He certainly knows how to shout,
You stand there in silence and sense that it¡¯s over,
And it¡¯s hardly worth trying to put in a word,
For it¡¯s over, and your world is collapsing,
And you¡¯ll soon be alone again.

14¡¢Autumn Leaves
¡¶ 5¶¡·
¸ú´ú #¬»ì°®Áµ¡­¡­ üö¼  5 ÷¶»°ì»5<¾ %®º÷;®c

Joseph Kosma / Jaques Prevert
English Lyrics by Johnny Mercer

Autumn leaves fall and are swept out of sight,
The words that you said have come true,
Autumn leaves fall and are swept out of sight
So are the memories of love that we knew.
The wind of forgetfulness blows them,
Into the night of regret.
The song you would so often sing
Is echoing, echoing yet.

The falling leaves drift by the window,
The autumn leaves of red and gold.
I see you lips, the summer kisses,
The sunburned hands, I used to hold.
Since you went away, the days grow long,
And soon I¡¯ll hear old winter¡¯s song.
But I miss you most of all my darling,
When autumn leaves start to fall.

15¡¢Lonely House
¡¶¹¶Àµ7¿á·
¸ú´úÿµ±¹;½µÁc¬¹¶ÀµÀ÷¿þª¼·¢³ö³Á5:ü¡£ ùÀÁ¾õ÷ý ù£¬ä¶ùµ ?£¬¾ ¥ uÁc¬6´¦µ5ðÁm¡­¹¶ÀµÀ÷¿ã¬áy¶Àµá£

Kurt Weill / Langston Hughes

At night when everything is quiet
The old house seems to breath a sigh.
Sometimes I hear a neighbour snoring
Sometimes I hear a baby cry
Sometimes I hear a staircase creaking
Sometimes a distant telephone
Then the quiet settles down again
The house and I are all alone.

Lonely house lonely me!
Funny with so many neighbours
How lonely it can be.
Oh lonely street! Lonely town!
Funny you can be so lonely
With all those folks around.
I guess there must be something
I don¡¯t comprehend.
Sparrows have companions,
Even stray dogs find a friend.
The night for me is not romantic.
Unhook the stars and take them down!
I¡¯m lonely in this lonely house ,
In this lonely town.

16¡¢September Song
¡¶¾®¸w
¸ú´ú½v±¹· u8?®£¬÷ù«¾öª. »ì uõ7¶³õº5±¹c

Kurt Weill / Maxwell Anderson

When you meet with the young men early in spring,
They court you in song and rhyme.
They woo you with words and a clover ring,
But if you examine the goods they bring,
They have little to offer but the songs they sing
And a plentiful waste of time of day,
A plentiful waste of time.

Oh, it¡¯s a long, long while from May to December,--
But the days grow short, when you reach September.
When the autumn wheather turns the leaves to flame,
One hasn¡¯t got time for the waiting game.
Oh, the days swindle down to a precious few,
September, November!
And these few precious days I¡¯ll spend with you,
These precious days I¡¯ll spend with you.

17¡¢Illusions
¡¶»þõ¡·
¸ú´ú»þõ ü=öø²»¿¿µ#¬ üÿ´ %» ¿p®ã¬µs ø¥£¬¡¡ûù£¬ üôøÀ´À´øÀ´»¶&£¬´øÀ´¹µµ»·µµÀ þü c

Friedrich Hollaender

Want to buy some illusions
Slightly used, second hand
They were lovely illusions
Reaching high, built on sand.
They had a touch of paradise,
A spell you can¡¯t explain,
For in this crazy paradise
You are in love with pain.
Want to buy some illusions,
Slightly used, almost new.
Such romantic illusions
And they¡¯re all about you.
I¡¯ll sell them all for a penny,
They make pretty souvenirs.
Take my lovely illusions
Some for laughs, some for tears.

18¡¢Life's a swindle
¡¶ ú» øö­¾¡·
¸ú´ú ú»¾ »¸ö­¾£¬ûc¬¶¼»¶; u±  »· µ;!£ »¸ö´(£¬µ  ±½»¯£¬´÷±c e§Á £¬­¾Àå j¡£

(Mischa Spoliansky / Marcellus Schiffer)

Papa swindles,
Mama swindles,
Grandma is a lying thief.
We're perfectly shameless,
but we are blameless,
after all it's our belief.
Nowadays the world is rotten,
honesty has been forgotten.
Fall in love,but after kissing-
check your purse to see what's missing.
Everyone swindles some.
My son's a mooch and so's the pooch.

Life's a swindle, yes, it's all a swindle,
so get what you can
from your fellow man.
Girls and Boys today
would rather steel than play
and we don't care,
we tell them get your share.
Life is short and greed's in season,
all mankind has lost it's reason,
life is good,knock on wood,knock ,knock!

Shops will swindle,
shoppers swindle,
every purchase hides a tale.
The price is inflated
or regulated
to insure the store will fail.
Wheel and deel and pull a fast one
knowing you won't be the last one,
get the goods while they are going,
grab the cash while it is flowing.
Everyone swindles some.
What the heck go bounce a cheque!

Life's a swindle,etc.

Politicians
are magicians
who make swindles disappier.
The bribes they are taking,
the deals they are making
never reach the publics ear.
The left betrays,the right dismays,
the country's broke and guess who pays!
But tax each swindle in the making
profits will be record breaking.
Everyone swindles some:
So vote for who will steel for you.

19¡¢Maskulinum ¨C Femininum
¡¶ -ná·
¸ú´úã¬nã¬åüýa£¿ õ nõ £¬nõ òõøâ¡£üý¶7½µ#¬ ñ µ1;¹ µø #¿²ô² 㬲ô² n #¿

Mischa Spoliansky / Marcellus Schiffer / Jeremy Lawrence

One was masculine and one was feminine
And so they fell in love with ease
Then the masculine one told the feminine one
How he felt about their qualities
You are feminine but very masculine
While I am masculine but very feminine
And such a masculine and such a feminine
Are this year¡¯s perfect personalities
Oh, please be my masculine
And if you let me I will be your feminine
We once felt so inadequate
It drove us mad a bit but now that¡¯s past

And the feminine went out as masculine
She wore top hat and tails each night
And the masculine went out as feminine
He even wore high heels despite his height
And the feminine supports the masculine
At home the masculine cooks for the feminine
But still the masculine one and the feminine one
Felt sure something wasn¡¯t working right
They both found the other
To be far too masculine or far too feminine
And while they got slightly riled
They soon were reconciled
And fought no more

What keeps a feminine a real feminine
Remains although it¡¯s out of sight
And the same applies to every masculine
Although it¡¯s hard to hide when working right
And when the masculine aggressive feminine
Enwrapped the feminine submissive masculine
She had a handsome pretty mascu-feminine
A very cute hermaphrodite
The child¡¯s an undisputed neuter
A well-suited neuter there¡¯s no cuter neuter
And masculine and feminine
Are back in bed again and making more

20¡¢Where Flamingoes Fly
¡¶»Áw 557½¡·
¸ú´ú÷ù« ù%»Áw 557½ ú»ìªÀÿ ý5=ô¥;£¬´öø»u5a£

Mischa Sploliansky / Jimmy Kennedy

Oh, I think I¡¯ll go where flamingoes fly,
Where the sun hangs low in a ruby sky
And the surf at night sings a lullaby,
Yes, I think I¡¯ll go where flamingoes fly.

Where flamingoes fly, that¡¯s the place for me,
Where the waving palms kiss a sultry sea,
And a million stars light the velvet sky,
Yes I think I¡¯ll go where flamingoes fly.

For flamingoes know where the storms all cease,
Where the soft winds blow and the world¡¯s at peace,
And it¡¯s there I know that my heart won¡¯t sigh,
Oh, I¡¯ve got to go where flamingoes fly!
2024Äê4ÔÂ
S
M
T
W
T
F
S
 
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
15
16
18
22
23
25
28