Can somebody tranlate this song please?

I like the man's voice!


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1. Spinkej, synáčku, spi, zavři očička svý -
- dva modré květy hořce,
jednou zšednou jak plech, zachutná tabákem dech
a políbení hořce.
Na zlomu století v náruči zhebkne ti
tvá první nebo pátá,
než kdo cokoli zví, rány se zajizví
a budeš jako táta.

2. Spinkej, synáčku, spi, zavři očička svý,
máma vypere plenky,
odrosteš Sunaru, usedneš u baru
u trochu jiné sklenky.
A že zlé chvíle jdou, k vojsku tě odvedou,
zbraň dají místo dláta,
chlast místo náručí couvat tě naučí
a budeš jako táta.

3. Spinkáš, synáčku, spíš, nouze vyžrala spíž
a v sklepě bydlí bída,
v jeslích na nároží máma tě odloží,
když noc se s ránem střídá.
Recepis na lhaní dají ti na hraní
a nález bude ztráta,
kompromis, z života zbude ti samota
a budeš jako táta ...

Sleep, my little son, close your eyes
Two blue blossoms of a gentian
One day they will turn grey as tin is, as tobacco your breath will smell
And your kiss will turn so bitter.
On the breakdown of a century in your arms will melt
Your 1st or 5th girl
Even before someone will realize
You will be same as your daddy.

Sleep, my little son, close your eyes
Mom will wash clean nappies
You will get grown up for Sunar (drink for babies), you will sit down in a bar
Near different glass.
And because there are bad moments in life, they will take you to the army
A weapon they will put into your hands instead of chisel
Alcohol instead of warm hugs will teach you to run
And you will be the same as daddy.

You are sleeping, my dear son, lack has eaten us of food
And in the cellar there has poverty settled down
in the creche on the corner your mommy will postpone you child
When the night is switching places with the morning.
Recipe for lies they will give you to play with
And treasures will turn to losses
A compromise, from your life the loneliness will left to you
And you will be the same as daddy...

[QUOTE=Lunita;680476]Can somebody tranlate this song please?

Here is a more accurate translation:

Sleep, son, sleep, close your little eyes -
two blue gentian flowers,
they'll once turn grey like metal, your breath will taste of tobacco,
and your kiss bitter.
At the turn of the century, in your arms will melt
your 1st or 5th girl,
before anyone knows, wounds will heal,
and you'll be like daddy.

Sleep, son, sleep, close your eyes,
mommy will wash nappies,
you'll grow out of baby milk, sit down at a bar,
at a slightly different glass.
And as bad things happen, they'll take you away to the army,
and give you a weapon instead of a chisel,
booze instead of hugs will teach you to back out
and you'll be like daddy.

You're sleeping, son, you're sleeping, poverty ate through the food store,
and misery lives in the cellar,
mommy will leave you at the creche on the corner,
when night turns into morning.
They'll give you a recipe for lying to play with,
and your find will be loss,
a compromise of life you'll be left with loneliness
and you'll be like daddy.