Paroles et traduction Beogradski Sindikat - Osveta

Osveta

Ovo je veoma stara prica. U to doba rime behu sasvim drugacije od onih sto postoje danas.
Slike raja, a u stvari slike kraja.
Rosom umiven, obasjan suncem sto se radja,
Pesma slapova sto sa kamenjem se svadja,
I prija mi vetar sto se probija kroz cestar,
Sobom poneo je misli da danima sam vezan.
Da ovo nije sunce zore rane, vec je moje patnje plamen,
Slapovi su korbac, razapet na tocak,
Telo mi je kamen, rosa krv iz rane,
I zemlja bi se opila mukom moje brace.
U zivotu ishod cesto zavisi od jedne odluke, jedne bitke, jednog vodje.
Ceo zivot za jedan dan, za pocinak ne znam,
Nezadrzivo sutra, ja neminovno smrtan.
Savladiv trenutak, strah u meni sputan,
Moj poznanik stari vec nebrojeno puta.
Ne odlazi k'o uvek vec satorom luta,
Snagu nocas skupljam iako osecaj je slutnja.
Sutra, sve oci bice uprte u mene,
Jer prvi napad bice kako ja krenem.
A sve posle toga pamtice vreme,
A da li ce pamtiti i moje pokolenje?
Dok mislima lutam po kampu posmatram lampu sto gori,
I pitam se da l' ratnike moje ista misao mori,
Jer potreban je svaki punim srcem da se bori,
Da veruje u sebe i u onog sto ih stvori,
Koliko ja verujem u njih i koliko ih volim,
I moja desna ruka sto ih sa mnom uvek vodi...
U sobi senke,
Straza!
Prepad, stisak snazan, prvog rusim, drugog bacam, omca oko vrata.
Sapet sav sam, sad sam ostajem bez daha,
Ostajem bez snage, svladan na kolena padam.
Zadnjim trzajem oruzje na podu hvatam za balcak.
Napadaca nogom prignjecena saka,
Na ostrici maca ubice zivotinjska grimasa,
Mog komandanta, mog iz borbe brata,
Vodje moje garde, a sada mog dzelata!
Nakon sto je mucki uhvacen i bacen na gubiliste, u trenucima pred smrt, nasem junaku pred ocima prolaze slike zivota.
Majcin pogled i osmeh, ocev uzvik za podstrek,
Sa mnogo volje, tesko u vezbi, nedorastao za koplje.
Sa monasima ucim prva slova,
Zbog kazne suze uzdrzavam od bola.
Prva borba, miris krvi drugova iz stroja.
Miris njene kose, poljubac u senci topola.
Lepa kao andjeo penje se na oltar,
Svatovi u radosti, ja srecan sto je moja.
Otac u mukama mi umire na rukama.
Proslavljam u suzama propast mojih dusmana,
Rame uz rame, ja i vodja moje garde,
Nepaznjom usred obruca, odlucno spasavamo glave.
Rodjenje svoga sina vinom pozdravljam do zore.
Divlji vepar u trku jednim zamahom oboren.
Kruna sjajna u rukama patrijarha,
Stegovi na vetru, narod pozdravlja kralja.
Osecanja sve su dalja,
Samo tuga, ostaje da prati me svuda do kraja puta.
Za prelaz preko reke falice mi dukat,
I za pocinak nije spremna kuca,
Zato nastavljam da lutam.
Vecno zarobljena, dusa naseg junaka ostaje da proganja izdajnika.
Svoje telo sa visine gledam besan,
Vrane sto mi kidaju rane teram,
Al' da ih sklonim ne uspevam.
Za odmor vise ne znam, besan,
Neminovne sudbine svestan, spokoja zeljan, treba mi mir.
Podig'o sam duhove iz leseva drugova,
A birao sam najgore, zedne vode osvete,
Proklete na lutanje dok usud svoj ne ostvare,
Ja i moje utvare tvoje pohodimo kosmare.
Nekad znam i da krenem sam da te proganjam,
K'o zmaj menjam oblicja, iza tebe sam.
Moj dah ti ledi krv u zilama,
Brine te sudbina tvojih sinova,
Bezis od krvavih prizora.
I smeh odjekuje k'o greh izmedju dvorskih zidova,
Dok od krikova da pobegnes ne mozes,
Stojis prikovan.
K'o u temelj zazidan, k'o ziv zakopan,
Gubis dah, dok nokte lomis grebuci svoj sarkofag.
Pustam te da pobegnes, samo ostavim ti oziljak,
Da te podseti na sastanak sutra pred pocinak.
Jer tvoji strahovi moji su macevi,
Ni najjaci oklop ne moze da zastiti od savesti.
Jutra docekuj na kuli budan,
Al' budi svestan da kad tad pasces u san,
Da te opet docekam.

Revenge

This is a very old story. In those times, rhymes were quite different from those that exist today.
Images of paradise, but in reality, images of the end.
Washed by dew, illuminated by the rising sun,
The song of waterfalls that quarrel with the stones,
And the wind that breaks through the forest pleases me,
It has carried with it the thoughts that I have been bound for days.
That this is not the sun of the early dawn, but the flame of my suffering,
The waterfalls are a whip, crucified on a wheel,
My body is stone, dew is blood from a wound,
And the earth would be drunk with the torment of my brothers.
In life, the outcome often depends on one decision, one battle, one leader.
My whole life for one day, I don't know rest,
Unstoppable tomorrow, I am inevitably mortal.
Overcoming the moment, the fear in me is restrained,
My old acquaintance is already countless times.
He doesn't leave as always but wanders through the tent,
I gather strength tonight even though the feeling is a premonition.
Tomorrow, all eyes will be on me,
Because the first attack will be how I move.
And everything after that will remember time,
But will my generation also remember?
As I wander through the camp in my thoughts, I watch the lamp burning,
And I wonder if the same thought torments my warriors,
Because everyone needs to fight with a full heart,
To believe in themselves and in the one who created them,
How much I believe in them and how much I love them,
And my right hand that always leads them with me...
Shadows in the room,
Guard!
Ambush, a strong grip, I knock down the first one, throw the second one, a noose around my neck.
Bound, I'm out of breath,
I'm running out of strength, I fall to my knees, overcome.
With my last jerk, I grab the weapon on the floor by the hilt.
The attacker's hand is crushed by my foot,
On the blade of the sword, the bestial grimace of a killer,
My commander, my brother from battle,
The leader of my guard, and now my executioner!
After being treacherously captured and thrown into the abyss, in the moments before death, images of life pass before our hero's eyes.
Mother's gaze and smile, father's shout for encouragement,
With a lot of will, hard in training, unfit for a spear.
With the monks I learn the first letters,
I hold back tears of pain because of punishment.
The first fight, the smell of blood of comrades from the ranks.
The scent of her hair, a kiss in the shadow of poplars.
Beautiful as an angel, she climbs to the altar,
The wedding guests in joy, I am happy that she is mine.
My father dies in agony in my arms.
I celebrate in tears the downfall of my enemies,
Shoulder to shoulder, me and the leader of my guard,
Carelessly in the middle of the encirclement, we resolutely save our heads.
I greet the birth of my son with wine until dawn.
A wild boar in a run, felled with one swing.
A shiny crown in the hands of the patriarch,
Flags in the wind, the people greet the king.
Feelings are all further away,
Only sadness, remains to follow me everywhere until the end of the road.
I will miss a ducat for crossing the river,
And the house is not ready for rest,
So I continue to wander.
Eternally trapped, the soul of our hero remains to haunt the traitor.
I look at my body from above, angry,
I chase away the crows that tear my wounds,
But I can't manage to remove them.
I don't know rest anymore, angry,
Aware of the inevitable fate, longing for peace, I need peace.
I raised spirits from the corpses of comrades,
And I chose the worst, thirsty for the water of revenge,
Cursed to wander until they fulfill their destiny,
Me and my ghosts haunt your nightmares.
Sometimes I even start chasing you myself,
Like a dragon I change shapes, I'm behind you.
My breath freezes the blood in your veins,
You worry about the fate of your sons,
You run away from bloody scenes.
And laughter echoes like sin between the palace walls,
While you can't escape the screams,
You stand riveted.
As if built into the foundation, as if buried alive,
You lose your breath as you break your nails scratching your sarcophagus.
I let you escape, I just leave you a scar,
To remind you of our meeting tomorrow before bedtime.
Because your fears are my swords,
Not even the strongest armor can protect from conscience.
Meet the mornings awake on the tower,
But be aware that sooner or later you will fall asleep,
So I can welcome you again.