Текст и перевод песни Đorđe Balašević - Requiem

Requiem

Kad god prođem ulicom sa tvojim imenom
Pomislim na onu pesmu...
Već je godinama ne pevam, stari refren nikom ne treba
Ljudi pesme kratko pamte
Komandante...
Ostaće u knjigama i priča o nama: Balkan krajem jednog veka
Svako pleme crta granicu, svi bi hteli svoju stranicu...
Tope se snovi kao sante
Ej, komandante...
Na barikadama su opet zastave
Svet ide k′o na praznike
I decu izvode s jutarnje nastave
Da vide gladne radnike...
A gde smo mi, naivni, što smo se dizali na "Hej Sloveni"?
Kao da smo uz tu priču izmišljeni
Vremena su nezgodna, za momka kao ja, koji gleda svoja posla...
Nisam lutak da me naviju. Imam samo Jugoslaviju...
Sve druge baklje bez mene plamte, ej, komandante...
Na barikadama su opet zastave, svet ide k'o na praznike
I decu izvode s jutarnje nastave da vide gladne radnike...
I svi su tu da dobiju na toj lutriji...
Na barikadama su uvek najbrži, al′ nikad i najmudriji
A gde smo mi, naivni, što smo se dizali na "Hej Sloveni"?
Kao da smo uz tu priču izmišljeni...
I prevareni...
Kad god prođem ulicom sa tvojim imenom
Pomislim na Panta Rei...
Baciće se, tako, neki lik kamenom i na tvoj spomenik
Jer sve se menja, i sve teče...
Čoveče.

Requiem

Whenever I walk down the street with your name
I think of that song...
I haven't sung it in years, nobody needs an old refrain
People don't remember songs for long
Commander...
The story of us will remain in the books: the Balkans at the end of a century
Every tribe draws a border, everyone wants their own page...
Dreams are melting like snow
Hey, commander...
There are flags on the barricades again
The world is acting as if it's a holiday
And the children are being taken out of their morning classes
To see the hungry workers...
But where are we, the naive ones, who rose up to "Hey, Slavs"?
As if we were invented for that story
Times are tough, for a guy like me, who minds his own business...
I'm not a puppet to be wound up. I only have Yugoslavia...
All the other torches burn without me, hey, commander...
There are flags on the barricades again, the world is acting as if it's a holiday
And the children are being taken out of their morning classes to see the hungry workers...
And everyone is here to win this lottery...
They're always the fastest on the barricades, but never the wisest
But where are we, the naive ones, who rose up to "Hey, Slavs"?
As if we were invented for that story...
And deceived...
Whenever I walk down the street with your name
I think of Panta Rei...
Someone will throw a stone at your monument, just like that
Because everything changes, and everything flows...
Man.