Το μεγάλο μας τσίρκο
Nikos Xylouris / Νίκος ΞυλούρηςVersione inglese di vagvaf | |
[OUR GREAT CIRCUS] Great news I bring from up there Wait a moment while I breathe And I think whether to laugh To cry, to shout or to be silent The kings fled and they go Now to the port down by the shore The comrades send them away As they manipulated them and fixed them up From the outset they dug their pit And close up our great protectors Bit by bit became grave- diggers And who foots the bill? And how can I start again from the beginning? If only I knew why What do my roots now leave for me? Three computers calculate it Priests and clerks will tell us it With drums, parades and celebrations Gendarmes hold the constitution And inside the palace the courtiers Await the appearance of something new Foreign bankers are bejeweled Greek agents are shaved Seven the interest five the make- up Forty with the oil and the vinegar And he who believed and had patience Dumb and drugged he stands and stares At the freedom that is auctioned People, do not tighten the belt anymore Hunger for glory is the quitter’s It is the slave’s and it will bury him | [OUR BIG CIRCUS] Great news I bring from up there Wait a moment to catch my breathe And to think whether to laugh To cry, to shout or to be silent The kings fled and they go Now to the port down by the shore The allies send them away As they manipulated them and fixed them up From the outset they dug their pit And close up our great protectors Bit by bit became grave-diggers And who foots the bill? And how can I start again from the beginning? And if only I knew why What does the future hold for me? Three computers are calculating it Priests and clerks will inform us With drums, parades and celebrations Policemen hold the Syntagma square And inside the palace the courtiers Await the appearance of something new Foreign bankers are dressing up Greek real estators are shaving clean Seven for the interest five for the bribe Forty with the oil and the vinegar And he who believed and was patient Dumb and drugged he now stands and stares As freedom is put forth in auction People, do not tighten your belt anymore do not think of hunger as pride all the struggles you've made mean nothing if they do not avenge the spilled blood People, do not tighten the belt anymore Hunger is the quitter’s pride, the slave's that he is destined to be burried |