It was 20 years ago. We were in K4, our Thursday and Saturday retreat, and a song was often played, by a Slovenian band, they said, even though the song was called Happy Office and the band Siddharta.
I remembered. I just tried to google it to see under what (Slovenian) name this song later emerged when they published their first album and (almost all) songs were in Slovenian. But there are no hits. And yet, I remember.
In time the band has grown into (arguably, like everything) THE greatest Slovenian band. These days they celebrate their 20th anniversary.
This is my favourite song by them, and that’s why I translated the lyrics into English too, no matter how untranslatable they may be. But that’s quite all right, I’m always in favour of doing it your way.
And where the limits are, only you know, guys.
(This was the unplugged radio performance for Izštekani dj Jure and several musicians were added for the occasion.)
Siddharta by Siddharta
Translated by Manja Maksimovič
Hidden in the sea
submerged in the world of Dalantik
the clan of “little people”
has concluded their beliefs
where let it be seen
let it be seen, the laughter caught
between the utopias of shredded phenomena
and the ideas of quasi grand people.
It sounds nice:
another soul, same material,
every hand, cheek and body
every mind goes skyward
when the unrest is winding
when the rest is unwinding all the marked ones
and only the “dog” on the wall shall remain
keep marking the people for years to come.
Let it be seen
let it be seen, the World trapped
between the illusions of shredded phenomena
and the idea of god, which you should believe in
let it be seen
let it be seen in the hearts of the “little” ones
not on the wall.
Oh, hey, hey, hey, you in black
believe it or not, you will drink your fear.
And hey, hey, hey, you, the green one,
they will knock you down with proud and joy.
And hey, hey, hey, you in white
did you ever understand what you sang for them?
And hey, hey, hey, where is this road leading to
where are the limits?
It’s enough that the little one
has no idea where and when he’ll sleep tonight
and whether he’ll get up in the morning;
so let paranoia choke you
paranoia choke and drown you,
for they were only killing
only killing the invitees.
Skrit v morju,
potopljen v svet Dalantika
je klan “malih ljudi”
sklenil svoja verovanja,
koder naj se vidi,
naj se vidi smeh ujet
med utopije utrganih pojav
in ideje kvazi velikih ljudi.
Sliši se lepo:
druga duša, isti material,
vsaka roka, lice in telo,
vsaka pamet gre v nebo,
ko se nemir ovija,
ko se mir ubija vsem zaznamovanim
in le “pes” na steni bo ostal,
nekaj let ljudi zaznamoval.
Naj se vidi,
naj se vidi Svet ujet
med iluzije strganih pojav
in idejo bog, v kar naj bi veroval,
naj se vidi,
naj se vidi v srcu “malih”,
ne na steni.
O, hej, hej, hej, ti v črnem,
verjameš ali ne, ti boš strah popil.
In hej, hej, hej, ti zeleni,
s ponosom in srečo te bodo zbil.
In hej, hej, hej, ti v belem,
si sploh kdaj razumel, kar si drugim pel.
In hej, hej, hej, le do kam pelje tale cesta,
kje so meje?
Saj je dovolj že to, da mali
nima pojma, kje in kdaj nocoj bo spal,
in če bo jutri vstal; pa naj te paranoja davi,
paranoja davi in utopi,
zakaj ubijali so,
ubijali so le povabljene.