Balada O Ćaćinom Satu - Oliver Dragojević traduction en anglais

Balada O Ćaćinom Satu

Ćaća je jema sat u malom žepu,
Takvoga sata nima više niko;
Iz njeg se vrime razlilo ka mliko,
Ka vino ća je uteklo svon čepu.
Kad bi ćaća zasta da otare čelo
I sat bi sta i mudro bi muča
Nije jema srca da odbroji uru
Čoviku ća sidne da umoran ruča.

Ćaća je jema sat u malom žepu,
Takvoga sata nima više niko;
Iz njeg se vrime razlilo ka mliko,
Ka vino ća je uteklo svon čepu.
Ćaća se moga i bez sata snaći
Po pivcu, maški, po jugu u zraku,
Al more biti, čutija se jači
Sa saton ća je svitlija u mraku.

Pričaju judi starili su skupa,
Sat je bija srce u ćaćinu tilu,
I nije se znalo ća to šuška, lupa
Ća to tira naprid vrilu krv kroz žilu.
Sve dok nisu oba ostali bez glasa,
Sve dok nije zemja rekla zadnje slovo,
Još se nije znalo a je puklo, stalo,
Jer na njima sve je bilo još ka novo.

Na ćaćinon satu briše se i gubi
To vrime u zlatu i ti prsti grubi.
To vrime u zlatu taj leut ća kreće,
Na ćaćinon satu vratiti se neće.

Ballad of Dad's Pocket Watch

Dad carries his watch in his little pocket,
No one has a watch like that anymore;
Time spills out of it like milk,
Like wine that has leaked out of its cork.
When Dad stops to wipe his brow
The watch would stop and be wisely silent,
It has no heart to count the hours
For a man who needs to sit down and eat a tired meal.

Dad carries his watch in his little pocket,
No one has a watch like that anymore;
Time spills out of it like milk,
Like wine that has leaked out of its cork.
Dad can get by without a watch,
By the cockerel, the donkey, by the south wind in the air,
But it may be that he can hear better
With a watch that makes the darkness brighter.

Old people say they grew old together,
The watch was the heart in Dad's body,
And no one knew where it whispered, tapped,
Where it pulled forward the boiling blood through his veins.
Until both of them fell silent,
Until the earth had spoken its last word,
It was still unknown whether it had broken, stopped,
Because everything on them was still as good as new.

On Dad's watch, time in gold is erased and lost,
And those rough fingers.
Time in gold, that lute that goes,
Will not come back on Dad's watch.