King Crimson – Epitaph

The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams,
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
As silence drowns the screams.

Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying,
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.

Between the iron gates of fate,
The seeds of time were sown,
And watered by the deeds of those
Who know and who are known;
Knowledge is a deadly friend
If no one sets the rules.
The fate of all mankind I see
Is in the hands of fools.

The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death (if)
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams,
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
As silence drowns the screams.

Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying,
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.
crying…
crying…
crying…

Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.
crying…
crying…
crying…

Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.
crying…
crying…
cry…
cry…
cry…

cry…
cry…

Album_King Crimson - In The Court Of The Crimson King

Prevod pesme

Epitaf

Zid na kojem su proroci pisali
Puca po šavovima.
Na instrumentima smrti
Jarko sijaju sunčevi zraci
Kad su svi ljudi rastrzani
Noćnim morama i snovima,
Zar niko neće lovorov venac položiti
Dok tišina utapa krike.

Konfuzija će biti moj epitaf.
Dok puzim napuklom i isprekidanom stazom
Ako uspemo, možemo se opustiti i smejati se.
Ali plašim se da mi sutra sleduje plakanje,
Da plašim se da ću sutra plakati.
Da plašim se da ću sutra plakati.

Između gvozdenih bedema sudbine,
Seme vremena je posejano,
i zalivano delima onih
Koji znaju i koji su poznati;
Znanje je smrtni prijatelj
Ako niko ne određuje pravila.
Vidim da je sudbina čovečanstva
U rukama budala.

Zid na kojem su proroci pisali
Puca po šavovima.
Na instrumentima smrti (ako)
Jarko sijaju sunčevi zraci
Kad su svi ljudi rastrzani
Noćnim morama i snovima,
Zar niko neće lovorov venac položiti
Dok tišina utapa krike.

Konfuzija će biti moj epitaf.
Dok puzim napuklom i isprekidanom stazom
Ako uspemo, možemo se opustiti i smejati se.
Ali plašim se da mi sutra sleduje plakanje,
Da plašim se da ću sutra plakati.
Da plašim se da ću sutra plakati.
plakati…
plakati…
plakati…

Da plašim se da ću sutra plakati.
plakati…
plakati…
plakati…

Da plašim se da mi sutra sleduje plakanje.
plakanje…
plakanje…
plač…
plač…
plač…

plač…
plač…

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