Текст и перевод песни Đorđe Balašević - Slabo Divanim Madzarski

Slabo Divanim Madzarski

Slabo divanim madzarski,
Nesto malo, a i to s greskom.
Tecno govorim rukama;
I perfektno se sluzim smeskom.
Ali, madzarski ne umem,
Daj, nauci me, ′leba ti!
Nisam mog'o da pomislim,
Da ce mi tol′ko trebati.
Tvoje oci mastiljave,
Crne zrele visnje spanske;
Tvoje usne sladunjave,
Kao rizling od berbe lanske.
Suva trava sva suskava,
Kao zipon na nevesti;
Ali dzabe pripovedam
Kada ne umem prevesti.
Ref l:
Ma, gdi ces naci boljeg momka za te pare?
Ne budi smesna, draga ti,
Mozes do veka tragati;
Al' neces naci nikog, tako mi gitare,
Ko ce te vise voleti
I ko ce lepse lagati.
Slabo poznajem Szenttamas,
Ali stignem do tvoje kuce.
Tiho zazveckam sibicom,
Sve se ponadam: mozda cuces.
Ali pendzeri miruju,
A, te firange cipkane
Samo vatru potpiruju,
Tvojom rucicom pipkane.
Ref ll:
Ma, gdi ces naci boljeg momka za te novce?
Da ste mi sretni on i ti,
Ja cu se o'ma′ skloniti;
Al′ me na svilen gajtan vezi kao zvonce
I samo cimni kad pozelis,
- Ja cu ti zazvoniti.
Slabo divanim madzarski,
Nesto malo, a i to mani.
Ucio sam iz citanke,
Al' sam ost′o na osmoj strani.
Babe su me zacarale,
Perom iz krila selice;
Ali ti ces me resiti,
Moja medena celice.
A hold a felhők mőge rejtőzőtt,
K

I'm Not Good at Hungarian

I'm not good at Hungarian,
A little bit, but with mistakes.
I speak with my hands;
And I'm perfect at using smiles.
But I don't know Hungarian,
Come on, teach me, for crying out loud!
I couldn't have imagined,
That I would need it so much.
Your eyes are like ink,
Like black, ripe Spanish cherries;
Your lips are so sweet,
Like Riesling from last year's harvest.
Dry grass is so dry,
Like a dress on a bride;
But it's useless for me to talk
When I can't translate.
Chorus 1:
Where will you find a better guy for that money?
Don't be ridiculous, my dear,
You can search forever;
But you won't find anyone, so help me guitar,
Who will love you more
And who will lie better.
I don't know Szenttamas well,
But I'll make it to your house.
I'll quietly strike a match,
Hoping you might hear.
But the windows are still,
And those lace curtains
Only fan the flames,
Lit by your little hand.
Chorus 2:
Where are you going to find a better guy for that money?
May you two be happy,
I'll take my leave immediately;
But tie me to a silken cord like a bell
And just ring me when you wish it,
- I will ring for you.
I'm not good at Hungarian,
A little bit, but even that's crazy.
I learned from a reader,
But I stopped on the eighth page.
Women have enchanted me,
With the pen of a crane's wing;
But you will save me,
My honeybee cell.
A hold a felhők mőge rejtőzőtt,
K