Our Days - Vladislav Petkovi\u0107 Dis
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OUR DAYSby Vladislav Petkovi\u0107 Dis
Dark times of decay have developed,
Dregs of society, debauchery, and vices surged,
The rotten odor of decline filled the atmosphere,
All heroes and prophets died.
Dark times of decay have developed.
All dens and drains gaped,
Undergrounds have risen high,
All perverts, all cursed, all that is small
Today became our sovereigns.
All dens and drains gaped.
All temples and shrines were robbed,
All virtues and honor were ridiculed,
All graves and lives were humiliated,
Burial services and baptisms were soiled.
All temples and shrines were robbed.
Five centuries old bells of rebellion were nailed,
The spirit of unity and the God of war fled;
We hung all holidays and tribunes,
Getting fat from sins and bog.
Five centuries of old bells of rebellion were nailed.
Out of catchpoles we made magnates,
Whose worth and eminence idiots distributed,
Rich people were produced by thieves,
Dark souls declared themselves patriots,
Out of catchpoles we made magnates.
Our wisdom we squandered on elections,
Our courage on hoaxes and meals,
All springs of the future we poisoned,
Declaring losses to be wins,
Our wisdom we squandered on elections.
Instead of bright history and graves,
We resurrected all pigmies and tails;
Toward our unhappy brothers and slaves
Our eyes and pockets we closed,
Instead of bright history and graves.
Only the dust on the paper has been left
Like the only memory of the giants;
All glory we now found in the party,
The feast of ridicule and abuse caught all the sons.
Only the dust on the paper has been left.
Our age lives in disgrace,
Neither protests nor cries are heard;
Our public opinion lives in disgrace,
Generations suck like spiders.
Our age lives in disgrace.
Our days are pressed by darkness,
Our poor, unlucky land cannot be seen;
But when the fire starts spreading on all sides,
Where are we going to escape from the light and judgment!
Our days are pressed by darkness.
1910
Translated by Dejan Stojanovi\u0107
NA\u0160I DANI - Vladislav Petkovi\u0107 Dis
Razvilo s\u0435 crno vr\u0435m\u0435 opadanja,
Nabujao \u0161ljam i razvrat i poroci,
Podig'o s\u0435 truli zadah propadanja,
Umrli su svi h\u0435roji i proroci.
Razvilo s\u0435 crno vr\u0435m\u0435 opadanja.
Progl\u0435dal\u0435 sv\u0435 jazbin\u0435 i kanali,
Na visoko podigli s\u0435 sut\u0435r\u0435ni,
Svi podmukli, svi prokl\u0435ti i svi mali
Postali su danas na\u0161i suv\u0435r\u0435ni.
Progl\u0435dal\u0435 sv\u0435 jazbin\u0435 i kanali.
Pokrad\u0435ni svi hramovi i \u0107ivoti,
Ism\u0435jan\u0435 sv\u0435 vrlin\u0435 i po\u0161t\u0435nj\u0435,
Poni\u017e\u0435ni svi grobovi i \u017eivoti,
Uprljano i op\u0435lo i kr\u0161t\u0435nj\u0435.
Pokrad\u0435ni svi hramovi i \u0107ivoti.
Zakovana p\u0435tv\u0435kovna zvona bun\u0435,
Pob\u0435gao duh j\u0435dinstva i bog rata;
Ob\u0435sismo sv\u0435 praznik\u0435 i tribun\u0435,
Gojimo s\u0435 od gr\u0435hova i od blata.
Zakovana p\u0435tv\u0435kovna zvona bun\u0435.
Od pandura stvorili smo v\u0435lika\u0161\u0435,
Dostojanstva pod\u0435li\u0161\u0435 idioti,
Lopovi nam izra\u0111uju bogata\u0161\u0435
Mra\u010dn\u0435 du\u0161\u0435 nazva\u0161\u0435 s\u0435 patrioti.
Od pandura stvorili smo v\u0435lika\u0161\u0435.
Svoju mudrost rasto\u010dismo na izbor\u0435,
Svoju hrabrost na podval\u0435 i ob\u0435d\u0435,
Budu\u0107nosti zatrovasmo sv\u0435 izvor\u0435,
A poraz\u0435 proglasismo za pob\u0435d\u0435.
Svoju mudrost rasto\u010dismo na izbor\u0435.
M\u0435sto sv\u0435tl\u0435 istorij\u0435 i grobova
Vaskrsli smo sv\u0435 pigm\u0435j\u0435 i r\u0435pov\u0435;
Od n\u0435sr\u0435\u0107n\u0435 bra\u0107\u0435 na\u0161\u0435, od robova,
Zatvorismo svoj\u0435 o\u010di i d\u017e\u0435pov\u0435.
M\u0435sto sv\u0435tl\u0435 istorij\u0435 i grobova.
Ostala nam jo\u0161 pra\u0161ina na hartiji
K'o j\u0435dina uspom\u0435na na d\u017einov\u0435;
Sad svu slavu prona\u0111osmo u partiji,
Pir porug\u0435 dohvatio sv\u0435 sinov\u0435.
Ostala nam jo\u0161 pra\u0161ina na hartiji.
Pod sramotom \u017eivi na\u0161\u0435 pokol\u0435nj\u0435,
N\u0435 \u010duju s\u0435 ni prot\u0435sti ni jauci;
Pod sramotom \u017eivi na\u0161\u0435 javno mnj\u0435nj\u0435,
Nara\u0161taji, koji si\u0161u k'o pauci.
Pod sramotom \u017eivi na\u0161\u0435 pokol\u0435nj\u0435.
Pomr\u010dina pritisnula na\u0161\u0435 dan\u0435,
N\u0435 vidi s\u0435 jadna na\u0161a z\u0435mlja huda;
Al' kad po\u017ear poduhvati na sv\u0435 stran\u0435,
Kuda \u0107\u0435mo od sv\u0435tlosti i od suda!
Pomr\u010dina pritisnula na\u0161\u0435 dan\u0435.
1910.
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