Paroles et traduction Zabranjeno Pusenje - Kanjon Drine

Kanjon Drine

Kanjon Drine je ispred nas,
Stopamo Mufa, Kiki i ja,
Snijeg se topi, cesta je prazna,
Stao nam je stari kamiondzija.

Planine gole vrle prelomile nam put,
Gazda je vozio vidno neraspolozen,
Vise tuzan no ljut.

Smanjuje brzinu, pripaljuje cigaru,
U mraku mu svijetle oci,
Gazda tihim glasom rece:
Nece ovo, dijeco, na dobro poci.
Jer sve ide unatrag,
Zivimo u plemenima k′o Apaci,
A gde cemo, dijeco, i ja i vi
Nama srce kuca za sve njih.
Probudi me, ovo je neki ruzan san,
Sto manje, dijete, znas to si manje nesretan.

Planine gole vrle prelomile nam put,
Gazda je vozio vidno neraspolozen,
Vise tuzan no ljut.
Hadzije su sebi podijelili rejone,
Dijecu evakuisu avionima,
A ja se osjecam nezgodno,
Kao zebra na Brionima.

A vama ce, dijeco, biti najljepse,
Vi ste navikli rano u krevet,
Uskoro cemo svi mi,
Imati izlaz samo do devet.

Probudi me, ovo je neki ruzan san.
Sto manje, dijete, znas to si manje nesretan.

Kanjon Drine je iza nas,
Ispred nas je ravna Romanija.
Snijeg se topi,
Nista nece zaustaviti dolazak novog proljeca.

Drina Canyon

The Drina Canyon is before us,
Myfa, Kiki and I walk,
The snow is melting, the road is empty,
The old truck driver has stopped us.

Bare, rugged mountains have broken our journey,
The landlord drove visibly out of sorts,
More sad than angry.

He slows down, lights a cigarette,
His eyes glow in the darkness,
The landlord says in a quiet voice:
This will not end well, my children.
Because everything is going backwards,
We live in tribes like the Apaches,
And where will we end up, my children, me and you
Our hearts beat for all of them.
Wake me up, this is some kind of bad dream,
The less you know, my child, the less unhappy you are.

Bare, rugged mountains have broken our journey,
The landlord drove visibly out of sorts,
More sad than angry.
The hadjis have divided the regions between themselves,
They evacuate the children by plane,
But I feel awkward,
Like a zebra on Brijuni.

And it will be most beautiful for you, my children,
You are used to going to bed early,
Soon we will all,
Have a curfew until nine only.

Wake me up, this is some kind of bad dream.
The less you know, my child, the less unhappy you are.

The Drina Canyon is behind us,
Before us is the flat Romania.
The snow is melting,
Nothing will stop the arrival of the new spring.