A keresés eredménye

Kiskakukk

Hány ének megíratlan még?
Mondd hát, kiskakukk
Dalold el
Városban éljek-e vagy vidéken,
Heverjek-e kőként vagy égjek el,
Akár egy csillag?
Csillag.
 
Tekints rám, én Napom
Kezem ökölbe szorult
És ha akad puskapor,gyújts lángra.
Úgy ám.
 
Ki kel új útra magányosan?
Az erősek, az elszántak
Fői a harcban földbe tértek.
Kevesen maradtak meg jó emlékezetben
Tiszta ésszel, erős kézzel a sorban
Sorban.
 
Tekints rám, én Napom
Kezem ökölbe szorult
És ha akad puskapor, gyújts lángra.
Úgy ám.
 
Hol vagy hát, szabad akarat?
Kivel vagy épp most
Szelíd hajnal elébe mész? Válaszolj.
Jó veled ám rossz nélküled
Tűrő fejek és vállak az ütés alatt
Ütés alatt
 
Tekints rám, én Napom
Kezem ökölbe szorult
És ha akad puskapor,gyújts lángra.
Úgy ám.
 

Cuckoo

Versions: #9
How many songs are unwritten yet?
Please tell me cuckoo,cry out!
Will I live in the city or the outskirts,
Lie like a rock or shine like a star?
A star...
 
Look at me now my sunshine
My palm is clenched into the fist
And if there’s powder give me fire
Like this....
 
Who will be passing on the lonely trail?
All the strongest and the brave
Vanished on the battle field, in fight.
Few are left with the clear memory,sober minds with power in the hands,lined up
In the ranks...
 
Chorus
 
Where you are my precious liberty?
And with whom are you greeting the rising sun?
Reply!
It’s so good with you but bad without,
Heads and shoulders are obediently under the leash
The leash
 
Chorus
 
 
 

Cuckoo

Versions: #2
How many songs i left to write, how many?
Tell me, cuckoo,
Sing me.
Will i live in a city or in an edge,
Will i lie like a stone or burn like a star?
A star..
 
My sun, just look at me,
My palm became a fist,
And if there's powder, give me fire.
That's it.
 
Who will follow this lonely trace?
All the strong and brave fell in battle, in fight.
Just a few men with clear memory,
In sober mind, with solid hand left here,
Left here...
 
My sun, just look at me,
My palm become a fist,
And if there's powder, give me fire.
That's it.
 
Where are you, flyaway freedom?
Who are you meeting this gentle dawn with now? Tell me.
It's good to be with you, but so bad without you,
Putting a head and patient shoulders under the whip
Under the whip...
 
My sun, just look at me,
My palm become a fist,
And if there's powder, give me fire.
That's it.