Текст и перевод песни Oliver Dragojević - Balada O Ćaćinom Satu
Balada O Ćaćinom Satu
Ballad of Dad's Pocket Watch
Ćaća
je
jema
sat
u
malom
žepu,
Dad
carries
his
watch
in
his
little
pocket,
Takvoga
sata
nima
više
niko;
No
one
has
a
watch
like
that
anymore;
Iz
njeg
se
vrime
razlilo
ka
mliko,
Time
spills
out
of
it
like
milk,
Ka
vino
ća
je
uteklo
svon
čepu.
Like
wine
that
has
leaked
out
of
its
cork.
Kad
bi
ćaća
zasta
da
otare
čelo
When
Dad
stops
to
wipe
his
brow
I
sat
bi
sta
i
mudro
bi
muča
The
watch
would
stop
and
be
wisely
silent,
Nije
jema
srca
da
odbroji
uru
It
has
no
heart
to
count
the
hours
Čoviku
ća
sidne
da
umoran
ruča.
For
a
man
who
needs
to
sit
down
and
eat
a
tired
meal.
Ćaća
je
jema
sat
u
malom
žepu,
Dad
carries
his
watch
in
his
little
pocket,
Takvoga
sata
nima
više
niko;
No
one
has
a
watch
like
that
anymore;
Iz
njeg
se
vrime
razlilo
ka
mliko,
Time
spills
out
of
it
like
milk,
Ka
vino
ća
je
uteklo
svon
čepu.
Like
wine
that
has
leaked
out
of
its
cork.
Ćaća
se
moga
i
bez
sata
snaći
Dad
can
get
by
without
a
watch,
Po
pivcu,
maški,
po
jugu
u
zraku,
By
the
cockerel,
the
donkey,
by
the
south
wind
in
the
air,
Al
more
biti,
čutija
se
jači
But
it
may
be
that
he
can
hear
better
Sa
saton
ća
je
svitlija
u
mraku.
With
a
watch
that
makes
the
darkness
brighter.
Pričaju
judi
starili
su
skupa,
Old
people
say
they
grew
old
together,
Sat
je
bija
srce
u
ćaćinu
tilu,
The
watch
was
the
heart
in
Dad's
body,
I
nije
se
znalo
ća
to
šuška,
lupa
And
no
one
knew
where
it
whispered,
tapped,
Ća
to
tira
naprid
vrilu
krv
kroz
žilu.
Where
it
pulled
forward
the
boiling
blood
through
his
veins.
Sve
dok
nisu
oba
ostali
bez
glasa,
Until
both
of
them
fell
silent,
Sve
dok
nije
zemja
rekla
zadnje
slovo,
Until
the
earth
had
spoken
its
last
word,
Još
se
nije
znalo
a
je
puklo,
stalo,
It
was
still
unknown
whether
it
had
broken,
stopped,
Jer
na
njima
sve
je
bilo
još
ka
novo.
Because
everything
on
them
was
still
as
good
as
new.
Na
ćaćinon
satu
briše
se
i
gubi
On
Dad's
watch,
time
in
gold
is
erased
and
lost,
To
vrime
u
zlatu
i
ti
prsti
grubi.
And
those
rough
fingers.
To
vrime
u
zlatu
taj
leut
ća
kreće,
Time
in
gold,
that
lute
that
goes,
Na
ćaćinon
satu
vratiti
se
neće.
Will
not
come
back
on
Dad's
watch.
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