From the album Rimska cesta (1992)
Generali
Hej, trgovci z ognjeno kugo,
vi ste vratarji zgodovine,
monarhi našega časa,
in sejalci večne tišine.
Preveč držite v svojih rokah,
da ne bi vsaka vaša kretnja,
črnih prtov ljudstvu tkala,
in vsako upanje v pekel prodala.
Med žive sanje srečnih korakov,
med željo in njeno resničnost,
pada vaša trda senca,
da vse pohabi v nepremičnost.
Hej, generali s temnimi očali,
poglejte svoja lačna ljudstva,
vsi vedo, kaj ste storili,
in v zemlji piše, kaj ste izdali.
Lastite si neko preteklost,
teptate vse, kar vam je tuje,
zanikate tuje svetove,
in vsak dan menjate stare bogove.
Vaš smeh so solze neštetih.
Med freske neznanih obrazov,
pišete svoja povelja,
in se oblačite v zastave porazov.
Vi ste sodniki svojega časa,
kdo drug kot čas lahko vam sodi,
le ranjena življenja mnogih,
ki so zaklenjena v vaši svobodi.
Generals
Hey, merchants with your plague of fire
You are the gatekeepers of history,
the monarchs of our time,
and the sowers of everlasting silence.
You hold too much in your grasp,
so your every gesture
weaves black cloths for the people
and sells every hope
into the depths of hell.
Between the vivid dreams of joyful steps,
between desire and its reality,
your rigid, dark shadow falls
and cripples everything into immobility.
Hey, generals with your dark sunglasses.
Gaze upon your starving nations.
They all know what you have done,
and in the earth it is written,
what you have betrayed.
You claim the past as your own
and trample everything that is foreign to you.
You deny other worlds
and everyday you replace old gods.
Your laughs are the tears of countless men.
Between the frescos of unknown faces,
you write your orders
and dress yourselves
with the flags of defeat.
You are the judges of our time,
and yet who else but time can judge you?
Only the countless destroyed lives,
that are locked inside your freedom.
- Kategorija
- Proti vojni | MIR