Paroles et traduction Đorđe Balašević - Menuet

Menuet

U pet i petnaest je zvonio sat
Jednoga jutra na kraju leta
U šest i deset je kretao voz
S nekog perona na kraju sveta
Mene je ćekao taj voz
Kraj mojih nogu je spavao pas
Rekoh mu tiho, "Hej, beži odatle".
Otvorih vrata, izađoh na trem
Na kom su cvetale bele muškatle
Pomislih, to je, možda, taj dom
Nije me ćula, mirno je snila
Svoje lepeze i sveče i ćipke
Snila je dane, mirne i nežne
K'o crno - bele klavirske tipke
A u životu, sama na svetu
U menuetu tražila spas
Siđoh pred kuću, na praznjavi put
K'o neki lopov, polako i tiho
Ja nisam bio taj vitez za nju
Mada mi govore da sam Don Quijote
Al' to je sasvim druga stvar
Bila je zvezda, bila je pesma
Svaki dan druga, a većito ista
Snila je dobra stara vremena
I svog Chopina i Bacha i Liszta
Možda če sama, u grubom svetu
U menuetu naći svoj mir
Od tad je prošao vek ili dva
Javi se retko ponekom kartom
I ko zna gde je, ne želim da zna
Koliko ćeznem za dalekim martom
Kad sam je sreo prvi put
Bila je zvezda, bila je pesma
Svaki dan druga, a večito ista
Snila je dobra stara vremena
I svog Chopina i Bacha i Liszta.
A u životu, sama na svetu
U menuetu tražila spas
Još uvek lutam, gde je kraj puta?
Pamte me mnoge provincijske pruge
Kriju me mračne, jeftine krćme
Noći su, ponekad, puste i duge
Nestajem tada u nekom svom svetu
I menuetu, i menuetu

Menuet

At five fifteen, the clock rang
One morning at the end of summer
At six ten, the train was leaving
From a platform at the end of the world
That train was waiting for me
A dog slept at my feet
I told him softly, "Hey, get out of here."
I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch
Where white geraniums bloomed
I thought, maybe this is the one
She didn't hear me, she was sleeping peacefully
Her fans and candles and lace
She dreamed of days, peaceful and gentle
Like the black and white keys of a piano
And in life, alone in the world
In the minuet she sought salvation
I walked down to the street, onto the empty road
Like a thief, slowly and quietly
I was not that knight for her
Although they tell me I'm Don Quixote
But that's a whole different story
She was a star, she was a song
Every day different, but always the same
She dreamed of the good old days
And her Chopin and Bach and Liszt
Maybe she's alone in the rough world
Will find her peace in the minuet
A century or two has passed since then
She reaches out infrequently with a postcard
And who knows where she is, I don't want to know
How I yearn for distant March
When I first met her
She was a star, she was a song
Every day different, but always the same
She dreamed of the good old days
And her Chopin and Bach and Liszt.
And in life, alone in the world
In the minuet she sought salvation
I'm still wandering, where is the end of the road?
Many provincial tracks remember me
Dark, cheap taverns hide me
Nights are sometimes lonely and long
Then I disappear into a world of my own
And the minuet, and the minuet