Paroles et traduction Ulf Lundell - Xavante

Xavante

Jag var tio r den gngen
Och julen var p vg
Jag nska mej en hund och en resa
Till en Sderhavs
Jag fick min frsta grammofon
Och en bok av en ventyrsman
Han levde d, nu r han dd
Han satte upp en expedition
Och gav sej in i Mato Grosso land
Vidare, vidare uppfr Rio das Mortes
Tills han fann
Xavante
Jag var med honom p bten
I djugelns heta fukt
Pirayorna inunder, anacondor
Och jaguaren p stranden
Hela natten in mot juldan
Tills Apoena stod framfr oss
Hvding ver vildar i dom vilda landen
Nakna med lnga bgar
Och pilar genom vit mans hud
Inga smycken, ingen nd
Ingen Gud
Hos Xavante
Jag kan knna lukten av nejlika, saffran och glgg
Och vrmen i huset och tryggheten dr
Jag var tio r den gngen och snflingor fll
En juldagsmorgon lngt ifrn hr
Min far satte krvar i bjrken och domherrar kom och t
Uppfr Rio das Mortes styrde Blomberg
I sin ranka, vingliga bt
Nu har jag hela vrlden i huvudet
Och dom frker f in nnu mer
Dom flsar mej i nacken frn morgon till kvll
Med sina tungor
Ingen verklighet lngre som jag kan lita p
Efter alla lgner som mtts med lgn
Frn dom djvlarna som bara har tomma ord i sina lungor
Jsg kund bara st dr och se p
Nr klubban fll, jag hade inte rd
Inga smycken, ingen Gud
Ingen nd
Nu r jag en Xavante

Xavante

I was ten years old at the time
And Christmas was approaching
I wished for a dog and a trip
To a South Sea
I got my first gramophone
And a book by an adventurer
He lived there, now he is dead
He organized an expedition
And went into the Mato Grosso land
Up and up the Rio das Mortes
Until he found
Xavante
I was with him on the hunt
In the hot humidity of the jungle
Piranhas below, anacondas
And jaguars on the beach
The whole night until Christmas Eve
Until Apoena appeared before us
A chief over savages in the wild lands
Naked with long bows
And arrows through the skin of the white man
No ornaments, no need
No God
At Xavante
I can smell cloves, saffron and mulled wine
And the warmth in the house and the security there
I was ten years old at the time and snowflakes fell
A Christmas morning far from here
My father put sheaves in the birch tree and bullfinches came and ate
Up the Rio das Mortes Blomberg steered
In his slender, rickety boat
Now I have the whole world in my head
And they ask for more and more
They lick me in the neck from morning till evening
With their tongues
No more reality that I can count on
After all the lies that have been met with lies
From those devils who only have empty words in their lungs
I could only stand and watch
When the hammer fell, I couldn't afford it
No ornaments, no God
No need
Now I'm a Xavante