Đorđe Balašević "Ratnik paorskog srca" lyrics

Ratnik paorskog srca

Kada se Braca devetnaeste vrn'os dalekog fronta 'di soldat je biv'oPrič'o nam kako ga trefilo zrno,pa zavrt'o rukav i to pokaziv'oA mi, mi smo bili derani,a mi, mi smo bili derani

Prič'o nam Braca o mirisu morai o patroli od koje je bež'oI kako je opsov'o nekog majorai zbog tog posle na robiji lež'oA mi, mi smo bili derani,a mi, mi smo bili derani

Prič'o nam kako je preš'o Karpate,zujali meci k'o rojevi pčelaRek'o je: Rat vam je krvav da znate,al' nije mi žao ni ljudi ni selaHej, žao mi konja

Kada se Braca devetnaeste vrn'oprič'o je svako veče na šoruKol'ko je curica usput prevrn'oi kako topovi livade oruA mi, mi smo bili derani,a mi, mi smo bili derani

I čim Braca korak iz avlije kročiskupi se društvo iz našeg sokakaA svi smo imali velike oči,prepuna srca i maštu dečakaPa da, jer tad smo bili derani,pa da, tad smo bili derani

Psov'o je Braca i krivce i žrtve,puške i vaške i rov prepun blataRek'o je: Ne možeš izbrojati mrtvejer su se carevi igrali rataHej, žao mi konja

Negde u Braci je paorski koreni može rata i rata da budeKad nije paor za soldata stvoren,volije konje i zemlju neg' ljude

A mi, mi smo bili deranii sve još je vredelo za nasHej, hej, konji beli nebom terani,kroz san i kroz oblake u kas

A Warrior With Peasant Heart

When, in 1919, Braca came back from a far battlefield where he was a soldierHe'd tell us about how a bullet hit him, and then pulled up his sleeve and showed it to usAnd we, we were youngsters, and we, we were youngsters

Braca used to tell us about the smell of sea and about a patrol he'd ran fromand about how he cursed some major and then later did his time in jail because of itAnd we, we were youngsters, and we, we were youngsters

He used to tell us about how he crossed over the Carpathian mountains, how bullets buzzed like swarms of beesHe said: War is a bloody thing you know, but I don't pitty the people nor the villagesHey, I feel sorry for the horses

When Braca came back, in 1919, he'd tell stories every night in the neighborhoodHow many girlies he had on the way and about cannons plowing meadowsAnd we, we were youngsters, and we, we were youngsters

And as soon as Braca would step out of the yard, our neighborhood crowd would gatherAnd our eyes were big, hearts full and imagination boyishWell yes, because then we were youngsters, well yeah, we were youngsters then

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