The original intention was a couple of stanzas,
Exclamations that would sound through conscience
I wanted to lament about that damned year
When the Czechs did not shoot.
I wanted to be sarcastic about the silence of the masses
Then I wanted to ask about the old scar
the facts terrified me of that terrible time
that year sixty-eight
(original from the radio - recording of a report on the invasion of troops)
You stand by the window and weep Daniela,
What is boy in your stomach dreaming about,
It is said that there was almost no shooting that year,
And your son puts those dreams into songs.
Six thousand tanks stuffed in our necks,
and eight hundred planes like flocks of crows
The heroes driven away behind the first spruce
they extinguished us, perhaps from all sides
Tanks roared through the streets
The National Museum was shot down
Half a million men from five countries
paradise for brass bees
The execution of spring longing took a few hours
It's hard to believe what the gentleman says on the radio
The battalions were adorned with sad bloody smudges
the free nation was crucified in a whim
You have tears in your eyes, Daniela
Don't worry and believe it will be better again,
it was not known then
whether God will return over Mount Říp
In the eyes of men humiliation,
helplessly turns traffic signs
Injured people and injuries
from a very heavy beating
In our puddle they found some,
Who called foreign tanks here
They serve you well and so it comes back,
To a dormitory of a beaten courtesan
The execution of spring longing took a few hours
It's hard to believe what the gentleman says on the radio
The battalions were adorned with sad bloody smudges
the free nation was crucified in a whim
You stand by the window and weep over Daniela,
What is the boy in your stomach dreaming about,
It is said that there was almost no shooting that year,
And your son puts those dreams in songs