Přičichnutí alergikovo [English translation]

Allergy is tickling in my nose as I saunter

through avenues, but I feel good, life is fine here

in my blooming country.

I've got watery eyes and am coughing slightly

because of the pollen falling on my face,

I don't believe the alarming news,

I feel just fine here.

Intertwined lovers in fresh grass

and screaming children in the sandpit,

I trust my own mind the most,

body is my shelter.

Now the doctors are bleeding me,

so that the infection wouldn't cause,

that I might also infect my beloved*

country that is very lively indeed.

Famous spring apathy

and long queue before pharmacy,

me and you, we're smoking at the Slavia match,

then later along the waterfront in tram.

Not far from here there is a gallery,

I know the gatekeeper and for one litre of rum

you'll see the paintings of masters from Italy

and the gatekeeper being drunk as a skunk as well.

I like admiring things and I like being admired,

sing a song of the one who gives you bread**,

I sing for whom I happen to meet,

I do everything to stay alive.

'Cause the doctors are bleeding me,

the infection has progressed in me,

if it can't be solved by reason, it must be solved by force,

where is the bugger hidden?

Notes of noble dialogues,

quotes of great men and women,

Smoke signals from the mouths of demagogues,

my home is here - my flourishing country.

Swollen face is the ticket to a legion,

the shadows of fatties on the slim curves of paths,

a partisan attacked by lethargy,

ingenuous victory of promises and gestures.

In T. G. Masaryk primary school,

last history teacher is whining there,

bored students are not interested in the lectures,

the future of our nation is quite off-topic.

The doctors had been bleeding me,

the infection of pressure has withdrawn,

I will leave my beloved*

country that forgot, that Kryl had existed.