Текст и перевод песни Đorđe Balašević - Drvena Pesma

Drvena Pesma

Snio sam noćas, nikad prežaljenu stvar
Mog drvenog konjića
Kanap i zvuk točkića, vrbice zvon
"Za mnom, verni Sančo moj
U pohodu na Nespokoj."
Snio sam još i svoju prvu tamburu
Kako k'o noćna dama
Iz južnog Amsterdama
Iz izloga mene klinca zavodi
Na smrtne grehe navodi
'Di je to drvo raslo
Od kog je tesana?
Da l' se pod njime
Neko, nekada ljubio?
Otkud u njemu izvor
Svih mojih pesama?
Da l' je to znao
Onaj ko ga je dubio?
'Di je to drvo raslo
Vrh kojih bregova?
Da l' nas je ista
Kia mlađane zalila?
Ko mu je grane kres'o
Mati ga njegova?
Čija je ruka lišća
S jeseni palila? Da znam
Snio sam onda krevet, sav u ćipkama
Obesnu igru vatre, sklopljene salukatre
Na uzglavlju ruža u intarziji
Pod kojom smo se mazili
Snio sam sanduk, crni, srebrom okovan
Novembar, izmaglica i kvartet dragih lica
Maleni čun nasred luke pokisle
Da me u večnost otisne
'Di je to drvo raslo
Spram kojih vetrova?
Da l' je pod njime
Neko za nekim žalio?
Što ga je grom obiš'o
Mati ga Petrova?
Ko je u šake pljun'o
Pa ga strovalio
Jedina moja mila, sto si me budila
Bio sam tako blizu, naličja vremena
Taji se jedno drvo u mojim grudima
Gde li će nešto nići iz toga semena
Da znam

Wooden Song

I dreamt last night, a thing never forgotten
My wooden rocking horse
The couch and the sound of bells, the willow's chime
"After me, my faithful Sancho
In the expedition to Trouble."
I dreamt also my first guitar
How like a lady of the night
From Amsterdam's red light district
From the display window she seduces me as a boy
Leading me to mortal sins
Where did that tree grow
From which it was carved?
Did someone
Once kiss under it?
Where in it is the source
Of all my songs?
Did he know it
The one who carved it?
Where did that tree grow
On what hills?
Did the same
Rain drench us as young lovers?
Who lit its branches
His own mother?
Whose hand
Burned its leaves in autumn? If I knew
Then I dreamt of a bed, all in lace
Playful flames, folded drapes
A rose in the headboard inlaid
Under which we made love
I dreamt of a coffin, black, trimmed with silver
November, a mist and a quartet of dear faces
A tiny boat in the middle of a flooded port
To row me away into eternity
Where did that tree grow
Facing what winds?
Did someone
Mourn for someone under it?
Why did lightning strike it
Peter's mother?
Who spat in his hands
And felled it
My only love, why did you wake me?
I was so close, to the reverse side of time
A tree hides in my chest
Where something will sprout from that seed
If I knew