Talán 1989-ben hallottam először ezt a dalt. Az utolsó sorok akkor is megráztak, de nem eléggé. Most, 2024-ben, 51 évesen, azok a sorok a velőmig hatnak. Minden nap hazatérő hadifogoly (vagyok).
When I was conceived the dark sky wailed When I was born with agony, the stars were vomiting death With a hundred years old child's eyes my father returned from the war He kissed me, stepped to my mother and said: "This is the hell" We ascended from under the ground to a cankered black city Where everyone lined up for water but were dreaming about bread The first year brought hope, they believed nothing was yet decided So much could have been worth for living, waiting, believing Sow's falling-ling-ling, my grandmother's praying Winnie the Pooh's womanizing, the samovar's softly hissing White diapers and uniforms are hanging, the roap's groaning Opening fists, opening arms - life at the heart of the world II: You were our happiness, growing beautifully Your future's in a book, your past's a shame :II Pictures hang on the walls where I'll go to school Strong peasants, martyrs, poets and feeble kings Who's Bach? - I don't know, Kodály's not holding my hands Existence and consciusness will matter more, and not Mihály Vörösmarty Homecoming prisoner of war, bathes his face in the sun In front of him a little child's placing, builder of the brave new world He's pale and hungry all the time, it doesn't mean a thing to him That two hundred thousand froze to death, six hundred thousand turned to smoke
Megélni, megérteni, megtanulni... Hobót tananyaggá tenném!!!
Talán 1989-ben hallottam először ezt a dalt. Az utolsó sorok akkor is megráztak, de nem eléggé. Most, 2024-ben, 51 évesen, azok a sorok a velőmig hatnak. Minden nap hazatérő hadifogoly (vagyok).
Isten vagy Földes László!
@breakdown2112:
Translate the lyrics!
When I was conceived the dark sky wailed
When I was born with agony, the stars were vomiting death
With a hundred years old child's eyes my father returned from the war
He kissed me, stepped to my mother and said: "This is the hell"
We ascended from under the ground to a cankered black city
Where everyone lined up for water but were dreaming about bread
The first year brought hope, they believed nothing was yet decided
So much could have been worth for living, waiting, believing
Sow's falling-ling-ling, my grandmother's praying
Winnie the Pooh's womanizing, the samovar's softly hissing
White diapers and uniforms are hanging, the roap's groaning
Opening fists, opening arms - life at the heart of the world
II: You were our happiness, growing beautifully
Your future's in a book, your past's a shame :II
Pictures hang on the walls where I'll go to school
Strong peasants, martyrs, poets and feeble kings
Who's Bach? - I don't know, Kodály's not holding my hands
Existence and consciusness will matter more, and not Mihály Vörösmarty
Homecoming prisoner of war, bathes his face in the sun
In front of him a little child's placing, builder of the brave new world
He's pale and hungry all the time, it doesn't mean a thing to him
That two hundred thousand froze to death, six hundred thousand turned to smoke