Toma Bebić, For my paradise you ask me

Taxi for tomorrow

It is a cruel injustice to the world how some people, some thoughts they left behind, never get out of local boundaries. There is a language barrier, use of specific dialect, local issues, which may loose their power when translated into another language, or transferred to another part of the world. Toma Bebić shared the same destiny. This will be an insane attempt to bring it out , or even translate into English some of his poems/songs. So god help me.
Toma somehow, in his rich life, managed to be a navy officer, teacher, secretary, journalist, football coach, mechanic, musician, writer, actor, painter, aphorist, poet, I may have dropped something out. In his autobiography stated that he first wanted to be a pilot, but he was thrown out. Than wanted to be a sailor and become an officer; then wanted to be a football player and become a sailor; then wanted to be a poet and ended up doing court seizures; then wanted to be a teacher and become a professional musician; then went to become an official and become a teacher; then got mad and started composing, and so become a journalist; then started to write a novel and become a compositor....never becoming what he wanted, There was some more wantings and becomings, so he sad he stopped arguing with himself, even stopped talking to himself. What bought him down was that in his news office he tried to rear himself in the spirit of justice, truth and humanity, but the unfortunate tradition of unfulfilled wishes had to interfere so they proclaimed him to be a humorist.
Toma was a gentle giant with fiery spirit and immense sense for humor. My ex colleagues used to tell me stories how he would send them his text on a paper with stains marked; this one is from red wine, and this one from cuttle fish brodeto .
He was an experienced and educated in healing with herbs, claiming he can prevent any form of cancer, except lung cancer, if it is treated in the early faze. It was on our great sadness that on February 4 1990 Toma lost his battle with this illness. He was one of few man I meat I can say were a living legends. After the death of this, as many time said anarchist and humanist, his work was republished and recognised by a wider audience, and titles like book of aphorisms Volite se ljudožderi (Love each other, cannibals), Primitivci moji dragi(My dear Primitives), U sakatu vremenu (In the lame times), Volio sam da me vole (I loved to be loved)... were out again along with some of his music works.

One of my most favoured short songs:
Da ne gubimo koliko bismo tek izgubili (If we wouldn't lose how much more would we lose than)
trenutak sa Slobodanom Šalebajem dok je pio(a moment with Slobodan Šalebaj while he was drinking)
Niad mi nitko(Never will someone)
neće moći ukrsti(be able to steal)
ovu nebesku plavet(this hevenly blueness)
ovo lišće(this leaves)
ovaj život(this life)
što ču ga zaključati u sebe (that I will lock inside myself)
i ponjeti u beskraj (and take to infinity)
..................
a taj se zbog toga(and that someone, because of that)
neče smatrati (want consider himself)
osiromašenim (depleted)


Or two that can be translated with a little luck:

Vijetnam kroz vjekove (Vietnam through ages)
Okončan je rat (The war is ower)
moj (ne)znani brat (my (un)known brother)
silom vojnik (perforce a soldier)
pretvoio se u spomenik (converted into a statue)

Morski pas na kopnu (A shark on dry-land)
jučer je morski pas pojeo kupača (Yesterday a shark eat a swimmer)
i sve novine donijele su (and all the papers brought)
tu groznu vijest (that horrible news)
s dužnom poštovanja količinom ( with respectful amounth)
g r o z e... (of h o r r o r..)
danas sam uhvatio (today I caught)
ženku morskog psa (a female shark)
malu životinju ( a small animal)
nešto veću od pola metra... (something above half meter long)
uzvanici su se tukli po trbusima (guests have bean beating their bellys)
"brodetto od morskog psa (brodetto from shark)
iznenađujuće je ukusan..." (is surprisingly teasty)
a novine nisu ništa pisale (and the papers said none)




Za moj raj pitajte mene (For my paradise you ask me)

U mećavama života vrelog (In the storms of life boiling)
Gube se moje misli od tijela (My thoughts are drifting away from the body)
Svoga vodiča, svjetionik tražim (My guide, a lighthouse I seek)
Postajem leden, pahuljica bijela (I become frigid white flake)

Moja je ljubav crna (My love is black)
Crnina zgusnuta u kuglu svijeta (Blackness condensed into a ball of the world)
Pod maskom tinja i leži tvrdom (Under a mask it smolders, lies hard,)
Kamen (a stone,)
Kamen što posta od cvijeta (a stone, that grew from a flower)

Prokleta da si moja snago muška (Damn you my male strength)
U besciljnim noćima bezglavo trošena (In aimless nights mindlessly consumed)
Od pijanih tijela uz smijeh isprošena (From drunken bodies in laughter scrounged)
Suzama bijesa i kletvom oplakana (In tears of rage and lamented with curse)

Što vrijedi dozivati bogove (What is it worth calling the gods)
Što vrijedi htjeti bjelinu u noći (Why want whiteness in the night)
Kad su mi ruke u najvećoj moći (When my hands in their full might)
Tim istim bogovima pružale rogove (To these same gods offered the horns)

I neću, (And I will not,)
Neću vam bogovi moliti milost (I will not beg mercy of the gods)
Milost užitka vašeg raja (The mercy of content of your paradise)
Za moj raj pitajte mene (For my paradise you ask me)
Spavao sam na prsima zadovoljene žene (I slept on the chest of a woman well pleased)

I ako mi sad zato nećete naći (And if therefore you will not find me)
Tiho mjestašce u vašem kraju (Quiet litle place in your area)
Pljujem na sve milosti svijeta (I spit on all the graces of the world)
Vraćam se svome raju (and I am hading back to my paradise)
Vraćam se svome raju (I am hading back to my paradise)
Vraćam se svome raju (I am hading back to my paradise)




Tu-tu auto vrag ti piz odnija (honk honk car, may the devil take you away)

Jo ca letidu isprid nosa (Flying in front of our noses)
Ove rugobe tonobili (These monsters cars)
Svu su nan arju usmrdili (They made our air reek)
I tisinu prikinili (And broke our silence)

Di mi je sad moj tovar Sivac (Where is now my donkey Gray)
Di su njegove drage usi (Where are his beloved ears)
Miga bi s njima i zareva (He would wink them and bray)
Najlipju pismu vrilog lita (The moast beautiful song of the summer)

I boje da si mi krepa Sivce (It is better that you died my Gray)
Sican se kad si na misec vika (I remember how you used to bray at the moon)
Evo su niki dani (Just a few days ago)
Njegovu lipost razotkrili (They exposed it's beauty)

Nista mi vise nije ostalo (Nothing has remained)
O cista zvuka, loze i jutra (Of pure sound, of grape vine and morning)
Ne cujen tvoju pismu Sivce (I don't hear your song Gray)
Kvragu oni i oktan super (Damn them and their octane super)




http://www.myspace.com/tomabebic


This out of print, 1980 vinyl rip, was the couresty of http://exyuvinyl.blogspot.com, now gone from his blog, big thanks to them I hope they don,t mind me using it.

Toma Bebić
Oya noya
word thegoodone might help when others fail





On exyuraremusic and jugorockforever
you can find some more...

The Bauls Of Bengal

O you shaggy-headed banyan tree standing on the bank of the pond,

have you forgotten the little child,

like the birds that have nested in your branches and left you?

Do you not remember how he sat at the window

and wondered at the tangle of your roots that plunged underground?

The women would come to fill their jars in the pond,

and your huge black shadow would wriggle

on the water like sleep struggling to wake up.

Sunlight danced on the ripple like

restless tiny shuttles weaving golden tapestry.

Two ducks swam by the woody margin above their shadows,

and the child would sit still and think.

He longed to be the wind and blow through your rustling branches,

to be your shadow and legthen with the day on the water,

to be a bird and perch on your topmost twig,

and to float like those ducks among the weeds and shadows.

Rabindranath Tagore

*

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baul

&

the Mirror in the Sky

The Bauls Of Bengal

A Poet Called Benjamin Zephaniah

My full name is Benjamin Obadiah Iqbal Zephaniah which is Christian, Jewish and Muslim. I was born in the district of Handsworth in Birmingham. My poetry is strongly influenced by the music and poetry of Jamaica and I can't remember a time when I was not creating poetry. This had nothing to do with school where poetry meant very little to me, in fact I had finished full time education at the age of 13.

I wanted to reach more people so at the age of 22 I headed south to London where Page One Books published my first book Pen Rhythm. My mission was to take poetry everywhere and I was able to do this through performing my poems directly to the people.
I try to write poems that are fun but they should also have a serious message. I am very concerned about racism, animal rights, pollution and I have always believed that boys and girls should be treated equally. I hate wars and I think it is not right that adults should tell children not to deal with disputes by fighting and then those same adults go and fight in wars.
I think armies should be banned.love jogging, Kung Fu, football, collecting old banknotes and exploring woods and forests. Most of my best friends are animals and I am passionate about being vegan.
I love being on television programmes and I have been on some silly ones like The Bill and Eastenders. I have also been on things like Live and Kicking, Blue Peter and Wise Up - they were fun but they don't pay you much.
I have travelled around the world many times and my favorite countries for performing are in Asia and Africa. I now live in Lincolnshire but I still support the best team in the world - Aston Villa! From Benjamin for Kidz



1: Uptown Downtown
2: Naked
3: Superstar
4: Touch
5: Rong Radio Station
6: Our Fathers
7: Slow Motion
8: Responsible
9: Homesick
10: Genetics
11: Things We Say

Listen - Naked

Poetry pass

Stubborn Ass
still uses the pass.
He doesn' t know why,
he just thinks it's fun
saying thegoodone!

Rong Radio Station My ears are battered and burned and i have just learned that i have been listening to the wrong radio station My mind has been brutalised now the pain can't be disguised I've been listening to the wrong radio station I was beginning to believe that all black men were bad men and white men would reign again I was beginning to believe that i was a mindless drugs freak that couldn't control my sanity or my sexuality I was beginning to believe that I could not believe in nothing except nothing and all i ever wanted to do was to get you and to do you. I've been listening to the wrong radio station. My future has been blighted i am so short sighted I've been listening to the wrong radio station I was beginning to not trust me, in fact, i wanted to arrest me I've been listening to the wrong radio station. I've been dancing to music that i can't stand. I've been reciting commercials to my girlfriends. I've been trying to convince myself that what i really need is a sunbed and a mortgage and some hairspray, the kind of hairspray that will wash my grey blues away. I been trying to convince myself that i could ease my conscience if I gave a few pence or a few cents to a starving baby in Africa because African babies need my favours because Africa is full of dictators and oh yeah globalisation will bring salvation! I've been listening to the wrong radio station. I thought my neighbours formed an axis of evil I wanna go kill people I've been listening to the wrong radio station. I am sure I didn't inhale so why is my mind going stale I've been listening to the wrong radio station I was beginning to believe that all muslims are terrorists and christian terrorists think they existed I really did believe that terrorism couldn't be done by governments not our government, not white government I just could not see what was wrong with me. I gave hungry people hamburgers you see I was beginning to believe that our children were better than their children their children would die from terrorism but i couldn't hear their children call and a child from Palastine simply didn't count at all. What despair, no children i was not aware I'd been listening to the wrong radio station. For years I've been sedated, and now i think I'm educated I've been listening to the wrong radio station and every time i got ill, i took the same little white pill I've been listening to the wrong radio station. When it started I was curious but then it got so serious It was cool when it began but now I really hate Iran and look at me now i wanna make friend with Pakistan I wanna bomb Afghanistan, and i need someone to tell me, where the hell is Kurdistan? Yeah, you can be my ally for a while until i come to bomb your child and I'm sure there's a continent called the middle east and i think i can bomb my way to peace I've been listening to the wrong radio station. I've been listening to the wrong jams, I've been listening to the wrong beat I've been listening to the wrong radio station. I've been listening to the wrong tones of the wrong zones I've been listening to the wrong radio station I've been listening to the wrong voices I made such mad choices I've been listening to the wrong radio station. I've been listening to spies I've been listening to lies I've been listening to the wrong radio station. I needed to know what some pop star somewhere was having for breakfast I needed to know that I was no longer working class I needed to know if the stock market rose 1 percent I needed to know that I had a ruler to give me confidence I needed to know that my life would improve loads if I had an operation on my nose. I needed to hear that DJ say, "Good morning, good morning!" I thought he was there just for me I loved the way that he would say, "This show was sponsered by...". "Oh my oh my", he made me cry I've been listening to the wrong radio station. Can you dig this? I put my self on a hit-list I've been listening to the wrong radio station I'm laughing and I'm crying and I'm watching myself dying I've been listening to the wrong radio station. Listen to him, can you hear? Listen to her, can you hear? Listen to it, can you hear? Listen to me, keep this frequency clear! Tune in, Drop out.



More Poetry

Nature Trail
At the bottom of my garden
There's a hedgehog and a frog
And a lot of creepy-crawlies
Living underneath a log,
There's a baby daddy long legs
And an easy-going snail
And a family of woodlice,
All are on my nature trail.

There are caterpillars waiting
For their time to come to fly,
There are worms turning the earth over
As ladybirds fly by,
Birds will visit, cats will visit
But they always chose their time
And I've even seen a fox visit
This wild garden of mine.

Squirrels come to nick my nuts
And busy bees come buzzing
And when the night time comes
Sometimes some dragonflies come humming,
My garden mice are very shy
And I've seen bats that growl
And in my garden I have seen
A very wise old owl.

My garden is a lively place
There's always something happening,
There's this constant search for food
And then there's all that flowering,
When you have a garden
You will never be alone
And I believe we all deserve
A garden of our own.

Miss World
Beauty is about how you behold
more than silver more than gold
if I say I am beautiful
it means beauty is accessible,
beauty is about how you greet
de everyday people dat you meet
you are beautiful so all rejoice
your beauty is a natural choice.

My sister is a beautiful girl
she don't want to be Miss World
her value is not prize money
more value than a pearl
my sister is a beautiful girl
human delight
she could be out of sight but she would rather stay and fight.

Her legs are firm and strong
best for self-defence
my sister kicks like wildfire
so cause her no grievance
she won't walk the platform
to upsex people's lust
and you can't get the number of her height, age or bust,
she don't want to go to the market
to be viewed like a slave
the viewing time is over
put de judge in the grave,
she don't need to go to the market
'cause she's already won
beauty contest no contest
she don't need to run.

I talk 'bout people in society who judge you by your looks, den,
give you a number dat is written in a book, and, lustful eyes
from all around come to look at you, and, day judge your lifetime
by a quick interview.

My sister is a beautiful girl
But she don't want to be Miss World
her personality cannot be rewarded by no judge or earl.
My sister is a beautiful girl
She needs no contest
and you can't put her with another judging who's the best.
And you cannot judge my sister's heart
By looking at her breasts.

Talking Turkeys!
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas
Cos' turkeys just wanna hav fun
Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked
An every turkey has a Mum.
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas,
Don't eat it, keep it alive,
It could be yu mate, an not on your plate
Say, Yo! Turkey I'm on your side.
I got lots of friends who are turkeys
An all of dem fear christmas time,
Dey wanna enjoy it, dey say humans destroyed it
An humans are out of dere mind,
Yeah, I got lots of friends who are turkeys
Dey all hav a right to a life,
Not to be caged up an genetically made up
By any farmer an his wife.

Turkeys just wanna play reggae
Turkeys just wanna hip-hop
Can yu imagine a nice young turkey saying,
ÒI cannot wait for de chopÓ,
Turkeys like getting presents, dey wanna watch christmas TV,
Turkeys hav brains an turkeys feel pain
In many ways like yu an me.

I once knew a turkey called........ Turkey
He said "Benji explain to me please,
Who put de turkey in christmas
An what happens to christmas trees?",
I said "I am not too sure turkey
But itÕs nothing to do wid Christ Mass
Humans get greedy an waste more dan need be
An business men mek loadsa cash'.

Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
Invite dem indoors fe sum greens
Let dem eat cake an let dem partake
In a plate of organic grown beans,
Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
An spare dem de cut of de knife,
Join Turkeys United an dey'll be delighted
An yu will mek new friends 'FOR LIFE'.

Riddim having a word

I have learnt that equality

May not mean freedom,

And freedom

May not mean liberation,

You can vote my friend

And have no democracy.

Being together dear neighbour

May not mean unity,

Your oppresors may give you chances

But no opportunities,

And the state that you are in

May have its state security

Yet you may be stateless

Without protection.

You my friend do not have to follow your leader,

The government does not have to govern you,

Im telling you Mom, you are greater than the law

If you are just when the law is not.

You see, once you are aware that new Labour

Does not care for the old workers

You may also know that change

May not mean revolution,

Once you realise that old conservatives

Are running out of things to conserve

You may also know that all politicians suck the same.

Babylon must burn,

Burn Babylon, burn.

Politics is like dis,

Life is like dis.

Intelligence may not mean intelligent,

The news may not be new.

From where we are

To be awake

May not mean

To be concious.

Looking for Kabir ?

There's a moon in my body


There's a moon in my body, but I can't see it!
A moon and a sun.
A drum never touched by hands, beating, and I can't hear it!


As long as a human being worries about when he will die,
and what he has that is his,
all of his works are zero.
When affection for the I-creature and what it owns is dead,
then the work of the Teacher is over.


The purpose of labor is to learn;
when you know it, the labor is over.
The apple blossom exists to create fruit; when that
comes, the petal falls.


The musk is inside the deer, but the deer does not
look for it:
it wanders around looking for grass.



Within this Earthen Vessel


Within this earthen vessel are bowers and groves,
     and within it is the Creator:
Within this vessel are the seven oceans
      and the unnumbered stars.
The touchstone and the jewel-appraiser are within;
      and within this vessel the Eternal soundeth,
      and the spring wells up.
Kabîr says:
         "Listen to me, my Friend!
         My beloved Lord is within."


I said to this wanting creature inside me



I said to the wanting-creature inside me:
What is this river you want to cross?
There are no travelers on the river-road, and no road.
Do you see anyone moving about on that bank, or nesting?


There is no river at all, and no boat, and no boatman.
There is no tow rope either, and no one to pull it.
There is no ground, no sky, no time, no bank, no ford!


And there is no body, and no mind!
Do you believe there is some place that will make the
soul less thirsty?
In that great absence you will find nothing.


Be strong then, and enter into your own body;
there you have a solid place for your feet.
Think about it carefully!
Don't go off somewhere else!


Kabir says this: just throw away all thoughts of
imaginary things,
and stand firm in that which you are.




Kabir




.