Текст и перевод песни Siddharta - Naiven Ples

Naiven Ples

Kadar srce boli britve reejo,
Vratove do krvi trupla padajo,
A na koncu spere de vse poraene,
Prepih v ilah le,
Stre ljudi in umae pesti.
Ta naiven zadn ples,
Ne bo nam dal peres,
Le grozljive slike pred ime,
In nazaj korakov ni le kraj,
Koder tema je kraljica saj.
Trpljenje pije znoj in solzi oi,
Teko je bit heroj iz objestnosti,
Ni treba lice gret in ret vseh teh tablet,
V glavi sproi plaz in za zmeraj ustavi nam as.
Zdaj umira na deju,
Nikogar ni nikjer,
Zdaj je sam in zanj ostaja le nemir,
In krvavo bo meso,
Spomin ohranjalo,
Na jesen komu bo dih ustavilo.
Ta naiven zadn ples,
Ne bo nam dal peres,
Le grozljive slike pred ime,
In nazaj korakov ni le kraj,
Koder tema je kraljica saj.
Zdaj umira na deju,
Nikogar ni nikjer,
Zdaj je sam in zanj ostaja le nemir,
In krvavo bo meso,
Spomin ohranjalo,
Na jesen ko mu je dih ustavilo.
Zdaj umira na deju,
Nikogar ni nikjer,
Zdaj je sam in zanj ostaja le nemir,
In krvavo bo meso,
Spomin ohranjalo,
Na jesen ko mu je dih ustavilo.

Naive Dance

The heart cuts so sharp like razors,
Necks fall to the ground, bleeding like corpses,
And at the end, wounded spears fall,
Only the wind whispers,
People and minds clench their fists.
This naive final dance,
Will not give us wings,
Only horrific images before the name,
And no steps back, only the end,
Where darkness reigns supreme.
Suffering drinks sweat and tears, oh,
It's hard to be a hero out of boredom,
No need to warm your face or speak all those words,
A landslide in your head, forever stopping your breath.
Now you're dying on the ground,
No one is here,
Now you're alone, and only unrest remains,
And the flesh will be bloody,
Preserving the memory,
Of the autumn when your breath stopped.
This naive final dance,
Will not give us wings,
Only horrific images before the name,
And no steps back, only the end,
Where darkness reigns supreme.
Now you're dying on the ground,
No one is here,
Now you're alone, and only unrest remains,
And the flesh will be bloody,
Preserving the memory,
Of the autumn when your breath stopped.
Now you're dying on the ground,
No one is here,
Now you're alone, and only unrest remains,
And the flesh will be bloody,
Preserving the memory,
Of the autumn when your breath stopped.