Paroles et traduction Djordje Balasevic - Galicia
Pred
zoru
je
sa
njene
strane
obicno
muk
Before
dawn,
there
is
usually
silence
from
her
side
Pod
velom
magle
zvecka
osmi
kozacki
puk
Under
the
veil
of
fog,
the
eighth
Cossack
regiment
chews
I
svu
noc
mi
inje
kamuflira
sinjel
And
all
night
long,
the
frost
camouflages
my
greatcoat
Uz
polegli
brest
By
the
fallen
elm
tree
U
inat
cu
i
ovo
pismo
poslati
In
spite,
I
will
send
this
letter
Znam,
ime
i
adresa
nisu
poznati
I
know,
the
name
and
address
are
unknown
Dok
tikvan-postar
ne
skonta
Until
the
pumpkin-postman
figures
out
Ko
to
ceka
sa
fronta,
kakvu
dobru
vest
Who
is
waiting
for
good
news
from
the
front
I
tek
da
znas,
ovo
na
slici
je
And
just
so
you
know,
this
picture
shows
Naoko
pitomi
pejsaz
Galicije
The
seemingly
peaceful
landscape
of
Galicia
Al'
mira
ni
cas,
sve
zivo
pali
na
nas
But
there
is
no
time
for
peace,
everything
alive
fires
upon
us
Fotograf
jedini
metkove
spara
Only
the
photographer
dodges
bullets
Oberst
kao
lud
olovo
rasipa
The
colonel
wastes
lead
like
a
madman
Fotograf
jedva
katkad
okine
sa
nasipa
The
photographer
barely
manages
to
shoot
from
the
embankment
sometimes
Na
nadosloj
Visli
se
soldati
stisli
Soldiers
huddle
on
the
flooded
Vistula
I
svima
su
nam
pomisli,
daleko
And
our
thoughts
are
far,
far
away
U
sumrak
je
sa
njine
strane
obicno
zal
At
dusk,
there
is
usually
sadness
from
her
side
Zatuzi
adjinokaja
k'o
ranjeni
zdral
The
adjutant
wails
like
a
wounded
beast
Al'
postane
krotka
kad
drmne
je
votka
But
becomes
gentle
when
vodka
shakes
her
Pod
mojom
sapkom
lavovi
se
baskare
Lions
bask
under
my
cap
U
snu
mi
pletes
beli
sal
za
maskare
In
my
dream,
you
knit
a
white
scarf
for
a
masquerade
Sva
se
pobrka
predja
kad
te
obgrlim
s'
ledja
All
the
yarn
gets
tangled
when
I
hug
you
from
behind
Kao
violoncelo
Like
a
cello
I
tek
da
znas,
mesec
u
zici
je
And
just
so
you
know,
the
moon
is
in
the
wire
Zvone
na
vecernje
zvona
Galicije
The
evening
bells
of
Galicia
are
ringing
I
neka
mi
to
ne
uzme
nebo
za
zlo
And
may
heaven
not
hold
it
against
me
Al'
ti
si
jedino
cemu
se
molim
But
you
are
the
only
one
I
pray
to
Brinucu
vec
ja,
nemoj
ti
brinuti
I
will
take
care,
don't
you
worry
Ma,
da
sam
'teo,
vec
sam
sto
put
mog'o
ginuti
Well,
if
I
wanted
to,
I
could
have
died
a
hundred
times
already
Dok
otice
Visla,
natraske,
van
smisla
While
the
Vistula
swells,
backwards,
out
of
its
mind
I
krecu
jata
pokisla,
daleko
And
flocks
of
birds
take
off,
drenched,
far
away
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Writer(s): đorđe Balašević
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