Текст песни Мокко fm - Датилан

Vietnam is a country we can hardly understand
A place where the sounds of battle fire are remembered,
Only there and nowhere else there are no professions of those
They speak only in whispers
One of these is a bone washer.
Her name is Datilan.
Piously honors the ancient rite,
She worked on tea plantations
Midwife in the rice fields
Now he washes the bones of the dead
Only three years after death
The soul reaches its end.

She is already eight decades old,
The first husband left, the second died,
She herself opened his coffin,
I cut the remains of the flesh with bamboo
This is what real torment means
This is what hell on earth means.

Of the six children, three are left
The biographies of the departed are a mother's cry
One died in childhood, the other in the war with China,
Daughter in the same place in sexual slavery,
Her fate is covered
A dark secret.

This is how Datilan lives,
Washes bones at night, afraid of bad dreams,
From this whole story I got one thing
We always complain that the work is not for us,
Always not enough extra money
But while you're wearing a jacket in your office
Somewhere far away under the Vietnam moon
An old woman washes the bones of the deceased.
While we're always unhappy
While we are never enough.