Evo kako je obljetnica Oluje bila sitio sam se jedne guslarske priče. Uzmemo li kako je Rambo Amadeus dobro obradio crnogorske gusle tj. Smrt Popa Mile Jovovića, evo dobre ideje za budući Thompsonov album...

Srpska zahvala Hrvatima (srpski knez Zaharija i kralj Tomislav)

Sastala se Hrvatska gospoda,
prve vođe Hrvatskoga naroda,

Sve u Kninu kraj Jadranskoga mora,
U stijegu* hrvatskoga dvora,

pa debelu ovnovinu iju,
i crvenu rumeniku piju,

Vino piju iz zlatnih pehara
i o svačem družba razgovara,

Pored kralj starac guslar sjeo,
javor gusle u ruke uzeo,

pa spominje boje i megdane,
što ratuje Hrvat na sve strane,

I Mletačke opake gusare
I Mađare i bjesne Bugare

Gusle gude o prošlosti zbore
Hrvatski se dvori pjesmom ore,

sve se živo veseli i smije,
nije Srpski kneže Zaharije,

tužnim licem tugu pokazuje,
rosnim suzam lice oplakuje

"Zadravo kralju osloboditelju,
kraljevovu sreći i veselju,

nek Hrvatska svakom srećom cvate
Bog s nebesa čuva Hrvate",

Zaharije Srpski progovara
niz lice mu suza se obara:

"Svakom Srbu uvenula ruka
digne li se protiv tvoga puka,

on od srca ne imo poroda
koje protiv hrvatskoga roda,

jednu samo mrku da izusti
bijeli dvori ostali mu pusti,

pa ni ptica gnijezdo mu ne vila
progonila sudba ga ne mila,

gore nego mene Zahariju."
Krupne suze niz lice se liju,

knez se bljedi jačim glasom glasi:
"Tko nas Srbe od propasti spasi?

Tko nam dade bratsko utočište?
Tko nas primi na svoje ognjište?

Tko nahrani hljebom bijelijem?
Tko napoji vinom crvenijem?

Od propasti Hrvat nas izbavi
Hrvati su prijatelji pravi.

Svim Srbima ma gdje još nas ima,
Hrvat rado u svoj dom nas prima,

pa i u boj za nas leti prvi,
Hrvat za nas ne žali ni krvi,

što nam treba sve nam Hrvat daje
tu smo kao sred svoje domaje.

Hvala vam o braćo Hrvati
Bog gospodar nek vam ljubav vrati.

Sad bi tribalo ovu pismu zakonom propisati u školama sa srpskom većinom.

Evo malo na engleskom:


"The Croatian nobility gathered,
Leaders of the Croatian people revered,

In Knin by the Adriatic shore,
With the banner of the Croatian throne they bore,

They drank from golden chalices of wine,
A joyous gathering, tales intertwined,

Beside them, an elderly minstrel took his place,
With a maple gusle, his fingers did embrace,

He sang of battles and valiant deeds,
Croatia's struggles, her heroic needs,

Of ruthless Venetian pirates, he spoke with might,
Of Hungarians and fierce Bulgarians in the fight,

The gusle's mournful tune told the past's lore,
The halls of Croatia echoed with its score,

Laughter and mirth filled the room so wide,
But not the Serbian Prince, Zaharije, by their side,

With sorrowed face, tears flowed from his eye,
He lamented his people's fate with a heavy sigh,

"Hail, O liberating King," he finally said,
To the Croatian King, his hat he bent his head,

"May happiness and prosperity be your due,
May God in heaven watch over you,

For every Serb who rose in your name,
Faced hardship and suffered the same,

One word of darkness, he could but utter,
White palaces lost, his heart aflutter,

No bird's nest in a tree he called his own,
Fate was cruel, his spirit overthrown,

Worse off than I, Zaharije, they fare,
Bitter tears upon my face I bear,

Who saved the Serbs from their plight?
Who offered shelter in the darkest night?

Who fed them with the finest bread?
Who quenched their thirst with wine so red?

From certain doom, the Croatians saved us,
True friends, in whom we place our trust,

To every Serb, wherever they may be,
Croatians open their homes, you see,

In battle, for us, they stand up strong,
Croatians do not hesitate to right a wrong,

They provide what we may need and seek,
In their midst, we're as one, not meek,

Thank you, O brothers, dear Croatians true,
May God's love and blessings rain on you."