Djordje Balasevic - Menuet
U pet i petnaest je zvonio sat
jednoga jutra na kraju leta
u sest i deset je kretao voz
s nekog perona na kraju sveta
mene je cekao taj voz Kraj mojih nogu je spavao pas
rekoh mu tiho, hej, bezi odatle
otvorih vrata, izadjoh na trem
na kom su cvetale bele muskatle
pomislih, to je mozda taj dom Nije me cula, mirno je snila svoje lepeze
i svece, i cipke
snila je dane, mirne i nezne
ko crno bele klavirske tipke
a u zivotu, sama na svetu
u menuetu trazila spas Sidjoh pred kucu na prasnjavi put
ko neki lopov, polako i tiho
ja nisam bio taj vitez za nju
mada mi govore da sam Don Kihot
al' to je sasvim druga stvar Bila je zvezda, bila je pesma
svaki dan druga, a vecito istaDjordje Balasevic - Menuet - http://motolyrics.com/djordje-balasevic/menuet-lyrics-english-translation.html
snila je dobra stara vremena
i svog Sopena, i Baha, i Lista
mozda ce sama u grubom svetu
u menuetu naci svoj mir Od tad je prosao vek ili dva
Javi se retko, ponekom kartom
i ko zna gde je, ne zelim da zna
koliko ceznem za dalekim martom
kad sam je sreo prvi put Bila je zvezda, bila je pesma
svaki dan druga, a vecito ista
snila je dobra stara vremena
i svog Sopena, i Baha, i Lista
a u zivotu, sama na svetu
u menuetu trazila spas Jos uvek lutam, gde je kraj puta
pamte me mnoge provincijske pruge
kriju me mracne, jeftine krcme
noci su ponekad guste i duge Nestajem tada
u nekom svom svetu i menuetu
i menuetu
Djordje Balasevic - Minuet (English translation)
At five-fifteen a clock rang,
one morning at the end of summer.
in six and ten the train was moving
from a platform at the end of the world
That train was waiting for me.
Next to my feet the dog was asleep,
I said quietly to him, hey, run away from there!
I opened the door, went out the porch
where the white geranium had blossomed.
I thought, maybe this is that home.
She didn't hear me, peacefully dreaming of her fans,
and candles, and lace.
She dreamed the days, quiet and gentle
like black and white piano keys
But in life, all alone in the world
seeking for salvation in minuet.
I went down on the dusty road
like a thief, slowly and quietly
I was not that knight for her
although people are saying that I am Don Quixote
but it is quite another thing.
She was a star, she was the songDjordje Balasevic - Menuet - http://motolyrics.com/djordje-balasevic/menuet-lyrics-english-translation.html
Every day different, but yet allways the same,
dreamed of the good old days
and her Chopin, and Bach, and List
Maybe she'll find now, in this cruel world, her own peace in minuet.
Since then passed century or two
She rarely calls me, sends some letter,
and who knows where she is now, I don't want her to know
how I long for the far March
When I saw her for the first time.
She was a star, she was the song
Every day different, but yet allways the same,
dreamed of the good old days
and her Chopin, and Bach, and List
Maybe she'll find now, in this cruel world, her own peace in minuet.
I am still wandering, where the road ends,
Many of the provincial railways remember me,
Hidden by dark and cheap taverns,
for me nights are sometimes dense and long.
then I am disappearing
in my own world, and minuet
and minuet