Drago mi je zbog mog starog - Đorđe Balašević Übersetzung ins Englische

Drago mi je zbog mog starog

Drago mi je zbog mog starog,
Sto sam bez skole,
Krenuo od dole i post'o car.

Dobro se secam,
Posle zvuka poslednjeg zvona,
Trk od skole do stadiona.

Bio sam sretan.
Tacno pamtim dan, trening prvi,
I: "Mali ima fudbal u krvi".

I onda: "Trci", i onda: "Lezi",
Nekad po kisi, nekad po zezi.

To su bili teski dani,
Al' sve je proslo,
Vreme je doslo da vladam ja.

Moj stari veruje, mozda preteruje,
Kad kaze da sam bolji od svih.
Drago mi je zbog mog starog,
Sto sam od trnja,
Stig'o do zvezda za tili cas.

Kad pruzim dobar mec,
On vodi glavnu rec;
I pita: "Dal je selektor slep?"

Drago mi je zbog mog starog,
On sada ima moc,
Da pred svima podigne glas.

U ime sporta,
Ja sam glavi rekao zbogom,
Pa sam slavu stekao nogom.

Takva smo sorta,
Brdo love kvari nas lako;
I onda djonom startuje svako.

I nema "Driblaj",
I nema "Dodaj"!
Vec samo ima:
"Dobro se prodaj".

Zbogom davni ideali.
Manje mi smeta,
Prvenstvo sveta-
Neg prazan dzep.

Kad slabo zaigram,
On pije sasvim sam,
I kaze:
"Trener kriv je za sve".

Drago mi je zbog mog starog,
Sto sam bez skole,
Krenuo od dole i post'o car.

Moj stari veruje, mozda preteruje,
Kad kaze da sam bolji od svih.
Drago mi je zbog mog starog,
Sto sam od trnja,
Stig'o do zvezda za tili cas.

Zbogom davni ideali.
Manje mi smeta,
Prvenstvo sveta-
Neg prazan dzep.

Kad slabo zaigram,
On pije sasvim sam,
I kaze:
"Trener kriv je za sve".

I'm Proud of My Old Man

I'm proud of my old man,
That I am without school,
Started from the bottom and became a king.

I remember it well,
After the sound of the last bell,
Running from school to the stadium.

I was happy.
I remember the day exactly, the first training,
And: "The little one has football in his blood".

And then: "Run", and then: "Lie down",
Sometimes in the rain, sometimes in the cold.

Those were hard days,
But it's all gone,
The time has come for me to reign.

My old man believes, maybe he exaggerates,
When he says I'm better than everyone.
I'm proud of my old man,
That I am from thorns,
I have reached the stars in a moment.

When I reach a good sword,
He leads the main word;
And asks: "Is the selector blind?"

I'm proud of my old man,
He now has the power,
To raise his voice before everyone.

In the name of sport,
I said goodbye to my head,
So I gained fame with my foot.

We are such a kind,
Money spoils us easily;
And then everyone starts with a bullet.

And there is no "Dribble",
And there is no "Pass"!
There is only:
"Sell yourself well".

Goodbye old ideals.
It bothers me less,
The World Cup-
Than an empty pocket.

When I play poorly,
He drinks completely alone,
And says:
"The coach is to blame for everything".

I'm proud of my old man,
That I am without school,
Started from the bottom and became a king.

My old man believes, maybe he exaggerates,
When he says I'm better than everyone.
I'm proud of my old man,
That I am from thorns,
I have reached the stars in a moment.

Goodbye old ideals.
It bothers me less,
The World Cup-
Than an empty pocket.

When I play poorly,
He drinks completely alone,
And says:
"The coach is to blame for everything".