TEXT 8 Z 14
SLAVIK
Mesicnik: Rad usinam v naruci
nekoho. Inu, kdo ne? Jiz dlouho vsak
life hasn't washed anyone
into my arms. So I slip into Adam's
garment and straight into bed.
Do not let me fight against the silence any longer,
I am all scars and wounds – already it
Boring. Wait! I hear something. It sounds like
The nightingale's song – perhaps because it celebrates summer.
Perhaps it is the gift of the Chinese Emperor,
Perhaps he flew from Verona's gardens.
No, that was no nightingale – that was the lark
That drove those two into the arms of the larvae.
So perhaps fate will grant us better luck,
But you have to try a little bit too!
Caress me – like young rapids stroke the stones,
Pet me – beneath the windows shreds of darkness linger.
But what am I raving about? For ruler of the night
Am I, and you the master of the dawn.
In the morning of the Big Dipper my coachman
Will deliver a message to Venus and night will turn to day.
Slunecnik: Hello Antonio. How was
spanek a sny? Me se rozplynuly jak
mlha, kdyz do ni uhodi prvni paprsek
slunce.
