Translation of the song Odjebi JNA artist Đorđe Balašević

Odjebi, JNA...

Fuck off, YPA*...

Dao sam ti jednu dobru godinu života...

I gave you one good year of my life...

Najbolju, možda?

Maybe the best one...

Veliki Vračevi Medicine rascepe grudi kao narandžu i spuste novo srce u njih (pažljivo, zatvorenih šaka, kao da vraćaju vrapčića u gnezdo), razdvoje skalpelom svetlo od tame u mutnom jezgru zenice, bajaju, pokretnu nepokretno, čudotvore na ljudima, pa opet, ni oni ne mogu da mi vrate moju otrgnutu devetnaestu....

The Great Sorcerers of the Medicine split up the chest like an orange and into it, they put the new heart (carefully, with their fists closed, as though they return fallen sparrow to his nest), by scalpel they separate light from darkness in the turbid core of the retina, they cast spells, move the immovable, pull miracles on people, but again, even they cannot bring me back my taken nineteenth...

Nikad više...

Never again...

Ali...

But...

Proklet da sam...

Damn I...

Ja sam bar imao dvadesetu. Dvadeset prvu. I još neke dvadeset-tridesete...

At least I had twentieth. Twenty-first. And some other twenties and thirties...

Za razliku od dečaka na čije crno uokvirene fotografije svakodnevno nailazim na predzadnjim stranicama štampe...

Not like those boys whose photos framed in black I find every day at the last pages of the newspapers...

Oni ostadoše negde u devetnaestoj...

They were left somewhere in nineteenth...

Zaljubljeni...

In love...

Zaigrani...

Playful...

Zbunjeni...

Confused...

Ne dospevši da svoje olovne vojnike razdvoje od olovnih zrna, koje su im Zli Starci tako bezbožnički podmetnuli u džepove...

They didn't get to separate their tin soldiers from the tin bullets, which were planted in their pockets by the godless Evil Old Men...

Ne, Brate Kaine, ne zovi me u polje...

No, brother Cain, don't call me in the field...

Ne mami me, zalud, da prošetamo minskim poljem, moj grešni sivomaslinasti brate...

Don't lure me, it's in vain, to walk through the mine field, my sinful olive-green brother...

Poturi nekog drugog Dobrovoljca na branike svoje nesposobnosti...

Put another Volunteer on the trenches of your incompetence...

Okači drugu metu na svoje kartonske bedeme...

Hang another target on your cardboard bastions...

Nema Mojih u ovom Ratu Naših...

There are no Mine in this War of Ours...

Ma znam...

I know...

Ne može to tek tako...

That's not how it goes...

Čičak Izdaje se kači na sve strane. I meni će ga već neki mangup prilepiti na leđa, onako u prolazu, tapšući me po ramenu, tobož prijateljski...

Burdock of the treachery catches everywhere. Some hooligan's going to stick it to my back, passing by, tapping me on the shoulder, allegedly friendly...

Razmišljao sam o tome...

I thought about that...

Koga izdati kad mi ostane da biram između nas dvoje?

Who am I going to betray when it all comes to just the two of us?

I, žalim...

And, I'm sorry...

Ali prestar sam da bih izdao sebe, još jednom...

But I'm to old to betray myself, once again...

Zato odjebi, JNA...

So, fuck off YPA...

Dosta je bilo...

It was enough...