Paroles et traduction Đorđe Balašević - Baronov bal

Baronov bal

Beše to noć kad cveta mak sred pšenice
A rusalke upliću bulke, ko požude znak, u pletenice;
Mlad mesec, zenica zmajeva
Ta je godine bila sva od samih aprila i majeva.
A bal, ko bal... Tad bi u raj i nezvani
Al' sve debitante taj glamur, taj vilinski sjaj obeznani
Pod sjajem začas se pomrači
Prodaj zlato za bakar, minut slave pa makar na lomači.
Dalje otprilike znaš... Ponekad za nas drugi donesu odluke teške.
Cela ta priča je falš... Iskustvo je tek pseudonim za sve naše greške.
Baronov bal – crn portal bez ručke i večita vatra na pragu
I ako uđeš, zažalićeš, a ne uđeš li slomljen bićeš
Uz onaj zloslutni potmuli strah da l' dušu prodaješ vragu.
Još jedan bal... Biće mi čast i ovaj ples
Od svog tog blještavila pamti se jedino strast, nežnost i bes
Zapleši sama pred masama
Drugi obraz okreni i još jednom zaseni taj bal pod grimasama.
I to otprilike znaš... Ponekad se razmeste zvezde u Godini zmije
I nekog usreće baš da večno dokazuje da l' on to jeste il' nije.
Baronov bal... Na blistave prozore naleću leptiri glupi
I davno nije upitno to da li bi dušu prodao ko
Odavno postoji jedino strah da l' bi vrag da je kupi.

The Baron's Ball

It was the night when the poppy blooms in the wheat
And mermaids weave braids, a sign of desire, into their hair;
The young moon, the eye of dragons
That year was all Aprils and Mays.
And the ball, like a ball... Then even the uninvited would go to paradise
But all the debutantes, that glamour, that fairy-tale shine, would be stunned
Under the brilliance, it would be eclipsed in an instant
Sell gold for copper, a minute of glory, even if it's on the pyre.
You know the rest... Sometimes others make heavy decisions for us.
This whole story is false... Experience is just a pseudonym for all our mistakes.
The Baron's Ball – a black portal without a handle and an eternal fire at the threshold
And if you enter, you will regret it, and if you don't, you will be broken
With that ominous, muffled fear, are you selling your soul to the devil.
Another ball... It will be an honour for me to dance this dance
From all that glitter, only passion, tenderness and rage are remembered
Dance alone in front of the masses
Turn the other cheek and once again overshadow this ball under grimaces.
And you know this too... Sometimes the stars are rearranged in the Year of the Snake
And someone is fortunate enough to prove forever whether they are or not.
The Baron's Ball... Stupid butterflies crash into the gleaming windows
And it's been a long time since it's been questionable whether someone would sell their soul
For a long time, there has only been the fear that the devil would buy it.