A keresés eredménye

The old man and the child

Versions: #1
An old man and a child, in each other hands,
set off together towards the dawn.
Red dust was rising further away
and the sun was shining with an outlandish light.
 
The immense expanse seemed to stretch
as far as the looking eye can fetch
and there was to be found nobody around
only the bleak outline of towers of smoke.
 
The two were walking, the day was waning,
the old man was talking and crying but softly,
with absent soul, with eyes full of tears
was following memories of bygone careers.
 
Old people endure the ravages of time,
unable to separate real and dreams
Old people don’t separate into their minds lies and truth in their own dreams.
 
And the old man stared, off into the distance,
and said: 'Imagine this covered in wheat,
imagine the fruits, imagine the flowers
and picture in your mind the voices and the colours.
 
And in this prairie till its very end
trees were growing and everything was green,
rain fell down, and suns marked out
the rhythm of men and of the seasons.'
 
The child stood silent, a sad look in his eyes
stupefied at things by nobody seen
and then he said, with a dreamy voice:
'I like fairy tales … tell me some more!'
 

To make a man

The rain falls and changes everything
death and life never change:
winter has returned, summer is over,
 
death and life remain the same,
death and life remain the same.
 
It takes twenty years to make a man,
an hour of love to conceive a baby,
thousands of hours to make a life,
a minute is enough for sorrow,
a minute is enough for sorrow.
 
The time will come, when we say words
when life creates a life
the time will come, when we make love,
when winter moves north,
when winter moves north.
 
Then we'll leave like birds
no one knows where they go
but that time will come and we'll see those skies
when winter comes back from the north,
when winter comes back from the north.
 
The rain falls and changes everything
death and life never change:
summer is over, winter is approaching
life and death remain the same,
life and death remain the same.
 

Do you remember those days?

Do you remember those days?
We went out after singing, walking slowly.
Do you remember those days?
Our friends were drinking wine,
someone was talking and laughing, and we were almost distant,
close to you, close to me,
and we talked, both of us, to leave something
to create something, to have something.
 
Do you remember those days?
Your eyes was getting somber and your face red,
and you were holding me tight in my room
almost a breath, and then you told me: 'Stop,
because I don't want to look at you,
because I'm afraid of loving you.'
And you said, you said, you said...
I can hardly remember your words,
but you also can't remember anything.
 
Where are you now? What kind of people
sees your face and listens
to your light words, your light nonsense,
your light tears, like the old days?
What are you saying now,
when someone embraces you,
and you hide your face, you proudly lift your face,
and look straight in the eyes, just like the old days?
 
Here it rains sometimes and sometimes it's sunny
we wait every day for this summer to come to an end,
for every uncertainty to disappear...
And you? I can't remember your voice
What are you doing?
I don't really believe those times can come back,
but I remember those days,
but I remember those days,
but I remember those days.