Текст и перевод песни Frenkie - Francuz

Francuz

Francuz moj otac komunjara je bio
I nikad fatihe nije naučio
Predavao fizičko u maloj Sali
Svi ga voljeli i svi ga znali
Nikom odmog'o, mnogim valjo
Od nikog bježo, nikom se klanj'o
Im'o je Tomosa i volio ići u ribu
Meze, rukomet i rakija u grlu
Volio je planinu, ljeti na Drinu
Malo pecat', malo plivat' sa sinom
Kao mnogi izgubio najboljeg jarana
Onda kad se birala strana
Ispliva mržnja u ljudima za dan
Razum ušuti, komšija zaklan
Izbjeglice, djeca bosa
A Francuz osta bez Drine i Tomosa

Na posao je išao u malo misto
U kojem presta cvjetat' bratstvo jedinstvo
Djeca kolege postadoše stranci
A Francuz preko noći posta Ibrahim
Neću srati kako je bila idila
Kao bilo je bolje za vrijeme Tita
Jarane nije bila idila
Iza pogleda mržnja se krila
Na tv-u ulice mog grada
Preko noći barikadirana vrata
Ona slika kad vojnik ženu na podu tuče
E to je blizu moje kuće
Noć prije nego št ćemo hvatat' nogu
Stari je doš'o i sjeo u moju sobu
Tad Francuz koji ne zna ni dovu

Prvi put se pomoli Bogu

Nesta Drina, motor i jaran
Zamjeni ih tuđina i mali tavan
Grad je i dalje na tv-u bio
Samo sad spikera nisam razumio
Staru vikendicu punu gostiju
Zamijenio je električni roštilj
A školu salu i dječija veselja
Zamijenila su molerska odijela
Danas se opet roštilj pali
Novi je grad al drugovi stari
I valjda to tako ide drug
Da čovjek u životu napravi krug
Dug je put koji ćeš proći

Dokaz su bore i umorne oči

Umorno tijelo i umorne kosti
Na kraju se uvijek okrenu Bosni

Gledam prošle dane
Blijede slike i drugare
A noge nose me dalje
Sve dok srce ne stane

Frenchman

My father, the Frenchman, was a communist
And never learned the Fatihah
He taught physical education in the small hall
Everyone loved him and knew him
He helped many, was good for many
He avoided no one, bowed to no one
He had a Tomos and loved to go fishing
Appetizers, handball, and rakija in his throat
He loved the mountains, in the summer to the Drina
A little fishing, a little swimming with his son
Like many, he lost his best friend
When sides were chosen
Hatred welled up in people in a day
Reason fell silent, the neighbor was slaughtered
Refugees, barefoot children
And the Frenchman was left without his Drina and his Tomos

He went to work in a small town
Where the flower of brotherhood and unity had stopped blooming
The children of colleagues became strangers
And the Frenchman became Ibrahim overnight
I will not shit how it was an idyll
As if it was better in Tito's time
My dear, it was not an idyll
Behind the gaze, hatred was hidden
On TV, the streets of my city
Barricaded gates overnight
That picture of a soldier beating a woman on the floor
That's close to my house
The night before we were going to leave
The old man came and sat in my room
Then the Frenchman who doesn't even know how to pray

Prayed to God for the first time

The Drina, the motorbike, and the friend are gone
Replaced by a stranger and a small attic
The city was still on TV
Only now I didn't understand the newscaster
The old weekend house full of guests
Was replaced by an electric grill
And the school hall and children's joy
Were replaced by painter's overalls
Today the grill is lit again
The city is new, but the friends are old
And I guess that's how it goes, my friend
That a man makes a circle in his life
Long is the road that you will walk

The wrinkles and tired eyes are proof

Tired body and tired bones
In the end, they always turn back to Bosnia

I look at the past days
Pale pictures and friends
And my feet carry me further
Until my heart stops