On The Field. By Peyo Yavorov by kalenderov
Do not be waiting for the dawn, Go out and plaugh, plough, plough on...
There is no good to tell,
So let it go to hell!
You haven't blinked, the moon's asleep
Up in the sky, the night is deep,
Your head is heavy, your eyes with clay
Are shut together. No time to sit!
Easter's close, and plaugh and seed
The earth is waiting - day after day.
C'mon, move on! 'Cause see, the neighbour
Is also ready for heavy labour.
And out you go, in freezing earth
You push the plaugh, you hit and hurt
The poor cow... A foggy night
Sinks in the valley, and then you might
Rest shortly, stop,
Head spinning so...
You can't just drop.
Go... Go, sucker, go!
If all the thorns and weeds allow,
Go out and plough, plough, plough...
There is no good to tell
So let it go to hell!
The morning comes, the sky's in fire
And flowers make up the fields' attire
The sheppard plays, the herd is moving
And birds are singin' so f.uckin' groovy.
You look and listen, you don't know why
You got the blues: and damn it, God!
Something inside you just wanna cry
And freezing blood's choking the heart.
The noon arives, the cool is gone,
Sun-fire's burning the trees, the stone.
You sweat like hell - so hot inside,
Can't go no more - you gotta abort,
You grab your back and get up - Lord!
And in a hurry you take a bite.
Just drink a coke
And eat that doe!
You spit and choke...
Go... Go, sucker, go.The sun will burn you 'til the grave.
You plough, plough, plough - like slave...
There is no good to tell,
So let it go to hell.
You come back home, call it a day,
And some commotion, from far away,
You hear then. But what the hell
In your place goes - you could not tell.
And later on, you know and fear,
'Cause a.sshole-taxman has come to clear
Your empty pockets. The folks - in fever
"He'll take it all, that stinkin' evil!"
That's all you hear, that's all the talk,
And you're thinking - it's just a joke!
"To work like crazy". If you could rub
Your head and turn that falling lice
Straight into money to pay the price!..
You think, and think - right to the pub
There get some drinks,
'Cause, buddy-Joe,
Life trully stinks!
Go... Go, sucker, go!
* * *
That's how we die,
I'm saying so,
And I don't lie!
Go... Go, f.ucker, go!