Текст и перевод песни Daniel Landa - Tradice

Tradice

Bitva utichá, tekla krev ve jménu kalicha
Skončil tak slavný čas, a když
Pánbůh dá, snad jednou přijde zas.

Trochu zabolí, že Jan Hus je fráze ze školy
Ideál husitů proměnil se dneska v tlupu banditů.

Patron náš svatý, slzy v očích myslí na časy zlatý,
Když tak lidi chtěli, aby chlapi z Blaníku
Rychle vyjeli

Stáli, hlídali tradice hory Říp, aby bylo líp.
Smáli se, plakali pro naší malou zem a pro blaho všem.
Teď už odchází, jedou do nebe, beze mne bez tebe.
Nic je neprovází, jsou celí užaslí a ohně vyhasly.

Meče zarezly, krysy z kanálu nám vylezly,
Kde je ta čistota, kam zmizela čest, odvaha, ochota.

To by se podivil pantatíček Masaryk, kdyby žil.
Všichni jsme zapomněli, co legionáři vlastně chtěli.

Stáli, hlídali tradice hory Říp, aby bylo líp.
Smáli se plakali, pro naší malou zem a pro blaho všem.
Teď už odchází, jedou do nebe, beze mne bez tebe.
Nic je neprovází, jsou celí užaslí a ohně vyhasly.

Letce z Anglie vlastní národ klidně zabije,
Jsou s nimi potíže, příliš odvahy,
Tak rychle za mříže.

Mocní Sokoli, hrdý na to, že je nikdo neskolí
Zabitý malostí, když primitiv zvítězil
Nad sílou moudrosti.

Stáli, hlídali tradice hory Říp, aby bylo líp.
Smáli se plakali, pro naší malou zem a pro blaho všem.
Teď už odchází, jedou do nebe, beze mne bez tebe.
Nic je neprovází, jsou celí užaslí a ohně vyhasly.

Skončil tak slavný čas, a když Pánbůh dá,
Snad jednou přijde zas...

Tradition

The battle has ended; blood was flowing in the name of the chalice,
Such a glorious time was over, and when
God wills it, perhaps it will come again some day.

It hurts a bit that Jan Hus is just a school phrase,
The ideal of Hussites has changed today into a gang of bandits.

Our patron saint, with tears in his eyes, thinks of golden times,
When people wanted so much, that men from Blanik
Quickly rode out.

They stood guarding the traditions of Mount Rip, to make things better.
They laughed, they cried for our little country and for the well-being of all.
Now they are leaving, they are going to heaven, without you, without me.
Nothing accompanies them, they are completely astonished and fires are extinguished.

Swords rusted rusty, rats from sewers crawled out to us,
Where is that purity, where did honour, courage and willingness disappear.

Grandfather Masaryk would be surprised by that, if he was still alive.
We all forgot, what legionaries actually wanted.

They stood guarding the traditions of Mount Rip, to make things better.
They laughed, they cried for our little country and for the well-being of all.
Now they are leaving, they are going to heaven, without you, without me.
Nothing accompanies them, they are completely astonished and fires are extinguished.

Airmen from England are quietly killed by their own nation,
There is trouble with them, too much courage,
So quickly behind bars.

Mighty Falcons, proud that nobody wins over them,
Killed by pettiness when a primitive prevailed over
The power of wisdom.

They stood guarding the traditions of Mount Rip, to make things better.
They laughed, they cried for our little country and for the well-being of all.
Now they are leaving, they are going to heaven, without you, without me.
Nothing accompanies them, they are completely astonished and fires are extinguished.

Such a glorious time was over; and when God wills it,
Perhaps it will come again some day...