Beogradski Sindikat "Deo Proslosti" lyrics

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Deo Proslosti

(Mare)Katana Masalome zadenuta je za pojas,pored nje Vaki-zaši,oštre ivice na goreDuša majstora u èeliku,kovanom i kaljenom,sad prebiva u koricama navoštenim crnim voskom,S kolena na koleno,meni pripala je èast,da odavno služim putu koji vodi maè,Koji vodi sebi,koji vodi zemlji,koji vodi prirodi,koji vidi se u svemu,Da sa maèembudem jedno,onaj koji služi,na rukobranu orao koji oko zmije kruži,Simbol moga klana,simbol moje veštine,simbol umetnosti,borbe i njene suštine,

U zaklonu pod nadstrešnicom napuštene kolibe sklupèan sedim,èekam nevreme da se stiša,Pogledom prelazim preko èitave doline,visoko sam u brdima,u kraljevstvu mira,Magla se podigla kao niski oblak,i sve je mutno,kao naslikano vodenim bojama,Misli su mi rastrzane,i trudim se da ih složim,dok kiša dobuje po daskama,i grmljavina prolama.Na putu sam ka hramu gde sam èuo da služi Monah koji uèi strpljenju,vrlini duha,Posle duela sa uèenicima,ako ostanem na nogama,dozvoliæe mi da njegovo uèenje poslušam,Veæ godinama lutam bez krova nad glavom,u potrazi za istinom koja ublažila bi nemir,I ne verujem,stvarno,u monahovu prièu,ali idem da se suprotstavim èoveku meni ravnom.Ako se ispostavi,ko što verovatno hoæe,da je samo folirant koji obmanjuje slabije,Neæu ni sekunde zastati da pomislim,pre nego što mu drvenim maèem glavu razbijem,Vremena su takva da ljudi traže utehu,a lukavi to,naravno,izvræu u svoju korist,Svestan sam da sve što radim i nema neku poentu,barem ne onako,na prvi pogled.Oluja se smirila i kroz oblake na horizontu duga izviruje i sunce je prati,Vreme je da nastavim dalje svojim putem i ovo mesto i trenutak se potrudim da zapamtim.

(Shef)Kiša prestaje,sunce se probija kroz oblake,zadnja kap oznaèiæe poèetak borbe opake,Èujem brojne korake,neprijatelj me okružuje,sedim mirno,iako opasnost preti svom silom.Napetost u vazduhu seèe moja oštrica,borba poèinje,katana je van svojih korica,U odbrani kao devica,u napadu kao besan tigar,maè poput èetkice nataknut kao slika,Ali ne uništavam,veæ stvaram,moje ulje,moje platno,njihova krv nije stvarna,al’ vredi kao suvo zlato,Oplemenjujem svoju dušu sada beskrajnim bogatstvom,ispred mene prostranstvo,sve vidim tako jasno.Kako boriti se bez borbe?Sukobiti se bez oružja?Kako do vrha stiæi jednim skokom iz podnožja?Ovo je borba srca i uma,odraz života jednog Šoguna,u službi neba i zemlje,Moja vera je moja kruna.

Više nema samuraja,niti pravih gospodara,zato postao sam Ronin,drumski razbojnik,šakal,Tražim izgovor dok pljaèkam,ali srcu nema spasa,samo tužna pesma frule osramoæenog zmaja.U noæima bez sna i straha jurim mesec iza oblaka da ga upitam za savet i za razlog što postojim,Odavno katane se ne bojim,al se plašim zaborava,van Bušida,junaštva,samo ljuštura sam izumrla.Ponekad podelim zalogaj sa monahom u prolazu,pustim planinski vetar da me miluje po obrazu,Gledam,pèele piju nektar iz trešnjevog cveta,sama pomisao na Djoz tada mnogo manje smetaPrvi koraci deteta u izuèavanju Kenda,vraæaju me u vremena kad mi volja beše ko stena,Doba hrabrih šoguna,ratova i buna,kad je ime moga klana bilo poštovano svuda,Meditaciji se vraæam,duboko dišem,tonem u san,sanjam kristalno jezero,iz njega uzdiže se hram,Detinji osmesi,okiæene Džunke i darovi,hodoèasnici,žene,starci,seljaci i ratnici,Èekam red u povorci da me svetlost prigrli,udarci Gonga topot koraka su prikrili,U Zvezdanoj postelji na kraju dana se opustim,slušam zveckanje Furina,U carstvo mira odlazim.

(Ogi)Dva dana metlanja hrama,ruke pune rana od èupanja korova,kleèim na srèi,Pored stuba srama,od sunca izgoreo,daleko od hlada borova,Ja,Samuraj-ubica stotine lordova,al u gnezdima orlova,u planini mi misli,daleko od bolova,U sumraku hodam,povorka monaha,svod nebeski posmatram,u svim stvarima je porukaCrveni disk bez oblaka,ja,Samuraj bez poraza,s trešnjinog drveta procvet’o pupoljak,U molitvi sam našao dugo oèekivani povratak.Monaški red,lotosov cvet,polen i med skupljam za lek,Ja,Samuraj,što pokorio je svet,predah uzimam tek da gledam leptirov let.Dok posmatram ponosnu bitku vetrova i krošnji pred sobom,Ja,Samuraj,u sveèanoj nošnji,na platnu mozaik za koji su mi trebali dani,Farbao pa slagao pirinèana zrna.Ja,Samuraj,što je nosio krunu,onda sedeo dugo,onda èekao oluju,Da raznese sve stvari materijalne,jer su prolazne,zato ostavljam svet.Ja,Samuraj,što samuraj bio je,sada odlazim,ali se ne okreæem...

Part of the Past

(Mare)Katana Masalome pinned it on my belt, next to her a Waki-sew, sharp edges on the topA master’s soul from steel, forged and tempered, now resides in the cover of waxed black wax,From generation to generation, I had the honor to serve long road of leading sword,That leads yourself, that leads the land, that leads the nature, which is evident in allTo be one with my sword, the one who serves like an eagle circling around the snake,symbol of my clan, the symbol of my skills, symbol of art , struggle and its essence,

In the shelter under the eaves of abandoned huts, I'm sitting huddled, waiting for the storm to subside,I took a glance over the entire valley, Im high in the hills, in the kingdom of peace,the fog has lifted like a low cloud, and everything is a blur, like a painted aquarelle,My thoughts are torn apart, and Im trying to make a peace, until the rain is drumming on the boards, and the thunder roars.I'm on my way to the temple where I heard that a certain monk who teaches of patience and the virtue of the spirit, serves there,After the clash with the students, if I stay on my feet, he will allow me to attend his teachings,I wander homeless for many years, searching for the truth, that could reduce my restlessness,I dont believe in the monk’s story, but I'm going to confront the man equal to me.If it turns out, which will probably happen, that he is just a phony who decives the weakI wont think twise, before I crush his head with this wooden sword,But these days is like that, people are looking for comfort, a sly, of course, is twisting in his favor,I am aware that not everything I do has a point, at least not in a first look.The storm has calmed and I can see the sun peeking out from the clouds on the horizon,It’s time to continue my own way and I will try not to forget about this moment and this place

(Shef)The rain had stopped, the sun broke through the clouds , the last drop will mark the start of the fight against the evil,I hear a number of steps , the enemy surrounds me , I sit still, though the danger is threatening with it’s power.My blade cut the tension in the air, the fight begins ,katana is out of its scabbard,In defense like a virgin, in attack like an angry tiger, my sword is like a brush plugged in a picture,But I dont destroy , yet create my oil , my canvas , their blood is not real, but it is worth as pure gold ,I refine my soul now with an endless wealth , vastness in front of me , I can see everything so clearly .How to fight without fighting? Confront without weapons ? Getting to the top with one jump ?This is a battle of heart and mind , a reflection of the life of a Shogun, in the service of heaven and earth..My faith is my crown..

There are no longer samurai, or real masters , that is why I became Ronin, highwayman , a jackal,I look for an excuse as robbery, but I cant help my heart , just a sad song from a flute of a disgraced dragon.In my nights without a sleep and fear, I chase the moon behind the clouds to ask for advice and for the reason why I exsist,Im not afraid of my Katana (sword) , but I'm afraid of forgetting ,out of Bushido , heroism , just a shell that died..Sometimes I share a bit of my food with the monk in the way, I let the mountain breeze, caress me on the cheeks ,I watch the bees drinking nectar from cherry flower, the thought of djoz (dunno what’s that) then is much less annoyingThe first steps of a child in the study of Kendo , brought me back to the time when my will was like a rock ,In the time of the brave Shogun, wars and rebellions , when the name of my clan was respected everywhereIm coming back trough meditation, I take a deep breath , fall into sleep , dreaming of crystal lake , it rises from the temple ,Childlike smiles, adorned with junk and gifts , pilgrims , women , elder men , farmers and warriors ,I'm waiting for the light to take me in it’s embrace , the hit of Gong sound in the background ,In a bed of stars I found mysef at the end of the day, listen the rattling of Furino ,In the realm of peace Im going.

(Ogi)Two days moping the temple, my hands are sore from pulling weeds, kneeling at the core,In addition to the Pillar of the sun Im burned, away from the shade of trees,I, samurai-assassin of hundreds of Lords, but my mind is far away in the mountains, away from the pain the eagles nest,At dusk I walk, the procession of monks, I observe the firmament , in all things there is a messageRed disc with clouds, I, unbeaten Samurai , like a cherry flower that blossomIn prayers, I found the long-awaited return.Monastic order, lotus flower, pollen and honey , Im collecting the drug,I, Samurai, that conquered the world, taking a break only to watch the butterfly's flight.While watching a proud battle winds and canopy in front of him,I, the samurai, in a ceremonial costume, a mosaic painting, that took me days to finnish,Painted and lied rice grain.I, the Samurai, that was wearing a crown, then sat for a long time, then waited for the storm,To blow up all the material things, because they are finite, so I leave the world.I, Samurai, I was a Samurai … now Im going on way and don’t look back ...

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