How To Make The Boss Sound Like Shakespeare
Just for grins, I took the lyrics to Bruce Springsteen's Born To Run and, using BableFish, translated the song from English to French, French to Dutch and then Dutch back to English.
It actually sounds almost as equally poetic as the Boss' original lyrics in a very cool and old world kind of way.
Here's the original lyircs:
Born To Run In English
In the day we sweat it out in the streets of a runaway american dream
At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines
Sprung from cages out on highway 9,
Chrome wheeled, fuel injected and steppin out over the line
Baby this town rips the bones from your back
Its a death trap, its a suicide rap
We gotta get out while were young
`cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run
Wendy let me in I wanna be your friend
I want to guard your dreams and visions
Just wrap your legs round these velvet rims
And strap your hands across my engines
Together we could break this trap
Well run till we drop, baby well never go back
Will you walk with me out on the wire
`cause baby Im just a scared and lonely rider
But I gotta find out how it feels
I want to know if love is wild, girl I want to know if love is real
Beyond the palace hemi-powered drones scream down the boulevard
The girls comb their hair in rearview mirrors
And the boys try to look so hard
The amusement park rises bold and stark
Kids are huddled on the beach in a mist
I wanna die with you wendy on the streets tonight
In an everlasting kiss
The highways jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive
Everybodys out on the run tonight but theres no place left to hide
Together wendy well live with the sadness
Ill love you with all the madness in my soul
Someday girl I dont know when were gonna get to that place
Where we really want to go and well walk in the sun
But till then tramps like us baby we were born to run
And here's Born To Run
(translated from English to French, French to Dutch and then Dutch back to English...)
or
How To Make The Boss Sound Like Shakespeare
In day we sweat it outside in the streets of an American dream
of emballement the night where we by small castles of celebrity in leaped machines of suicide
of the camps outside on the way 9, the rolled chromium, the fuel which and scooter tenon outside above the line
baby of the cracks of this city is injected, the boneses increase of your back
a its trap of death, is dry and hard battle of suicide we to leave
whereas the young vagrants of cause of were as our, baby have reached we born have become
Wendy to run me within that I your friend have left want be
I want an rims of velvet and attach together your hands by my engines
we could this well of run trap break until we leave out to falls our,
baby never returns the well wants you runs rider boosted with me
on the baby of cause of wire Im an exactly fright and only
but I have obtained to discover how he judges that I want know or love wildly am,
little girl I want know or love where concerning the palate hemi-actionnés
shout the bumblebees in lower parts of the boulevard
are that the little girls haren in mirrors of rearview comb themselves
and the boys try thus hard look
at the increases on the range in a fog
I want with you die Wendy on the streets this evening in eternal baiser
The ways have blocked with the heroes who are break on a last occasional order of power
Everybodys on race, this evening but of theres none place at the left-hand side to hide
When to the well Wendy of phase with the sick love of sadness together
you with the complete madness in my little girl of soul
A day which I not weet to these place will come where we want go really and walk to the sun
Leaps but until to considerable then the baby does not run run we born has become such as us!
Wow!
Migwell
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