Slabo Divanim Madzarski (Live) - Đorđe Balašević Übersetzung ins Englische

Slabo Divanim Madzarski (Live)

Slabo divanim madzarski,
Nesto malo, a i to s greskom.
Tecno govorim rukama;
I perfektno se sluzim smeskom.
Ali, madzarski ne umem,
Daj, nauci me, 'leba ti!
Nisam mog'o da pomislim,
Da ce mi tol'ko trebati.
Tvoje oci mastiljave,
Crne zrele visnje spanske;
Tvoje usne sladunjave,
Kao rizling od berbe lanske.
Suva trava sva suskava,
Kao zipon na nevesti;
Ali dzabe pripovedam
Kada ne umem prevesti.
Ref l:
Ma, gdi ces naci boljeg momka za te pare?
Ne budi smesna, draga ti,
Mozes do veka tragati;
Al' neces naci nikog, tako mi gitare,
Ko ce te vise voleti
I ko ce lepse lagati.
Slabo poznajem Szenttamas,
Ali stignem do tvoje kuce.
Tiho zazveckam sibicom,
Sve se ponadam: mozda cuces.
Ali pendzeri miruju,
A, te firange cipkane
Samo vatru potpiruju,
Tvojom rucicom pipkane.
Ref ll:
Ma, gdi ces naci boljeg momka za te novce?
Da ste mi sretni on i ti,
Ja cu se o'ma' skloniti;
Al' me na svilen gajtan vezi kao zvonce
I samo cimni kad pozelis,
- Ja cu ti zazvoniti.
Slabo divanim madzarski,
Nesto malo, a i to mani.
Ucio sam iz citanke,
Al' sam ost'o na osmoj strani.
Babe su me zacarale,
Perom iz krila selice;
Ali ti ces me resiti,
Moja medena celice.
A hold a felhők mőge rejtőzőtt,
K

Not Very Good at Hungarian (Live)

My Hungarian's got holes,
Not much to it, and full of mistakes.
I use hand gestures to communicate,
And I'm a pro at smiling.
But I can't speak Hungarian,
So teach me, please, my darling.
I never thought,
I'd need it this much.
Your inky eyes,
Like ripe Spanish cherries;
Your lips so sweet,
Like last year's Riesling.
Dry grass, so dry,
Like a bride's slip;
But it's useless me talking
If I can't translate.
Chorus 1:
Where will you find a better guy for the price?
Don't be ridiculous, my dear,
You can search forever;
But you'll never find anyone, on my guitar,
Who'll love you more
Or lie more beautifully.
I don't know much about Szenttamas,
But I'll find my way to your house.
I'll quietly strike a match,
Hoping: maybe, you'll hear.
But the windows stay still,
And those lacy curtains
Just fan the flames,
Caressed by your hand.
Chorus 2:
Where will you find a better guy for the money?
May you and he be happy,
I'll disappear right now;
But tie me to your silken cord like a bell
And just jingle when you wish it,
- I'll come ringing to you.
My Hungarian's got holes,
Not much to it, and even that's broken.
I learned from a reader,
But I got stuck on page eight.
The girls put a spell on me,
With a swan's feather pen;
But you'll set me free,
My little honey bee.
And yet the clouds hid behind the clouds,
K