Đorđe Balašević "Drvena pesma" lyrics

Translation to:enru

Drvena pesma

Snio sam noćas nikad prežaljenu stvar -Mog drvenog konjića,Kanap i zvuk točkića,Vrbice zvon...Za mnom verni Sančo mojU pohodu na Nespokoj...

Snio sam još i svoju prvu tamburuKako, k'o noćna damaIz 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 kiša mladjane zalila?Ko mu je grane kres'o, mati ga njegovačija je ruka lišće s jeseni palila? da znam...

Snio sam, onda, krevet, sav u čipkama...Obesnu igru vatre...Sklopljene šalukatre...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... Što 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?

A Wooden Song

Last night I dreamed a loss never gotten over with...My wooden horse ...Twine and the sound of little wheels ...The ringing of Lazarus Saturday...Following me my faithful Sancho ...In my quest for unrest ...

I also dreamed about my first guitar*That, similar to some night ladyFrom Southern Amsterdam ...From her window ... seduces me, a kid,...Tempting me with deadly sins ...

Where did it grow, the tree it was carved out from?Did anyone ever kiss underneath it?How come it is the source of all my songs?Did the one who chipped it away know that?

Where did that tree grow, atop of which hills?Did the same rain water us when we both were young?Who trimmed its branches, his mother bless his soul?Whose hand burned its leaves in the fall I'd like to know...

I then dreamed a bed, all covered in lace ...A mischievous game of fire ...Shutters down...On the headboard - a rose in intarsia...Underneath which we cuddled ...

I dreamed a coffin, black, with silver revetment ...November ... Mist ...And a quartet of dear faces ...A canoe in the middle of a harbor wet with rain ...To sail me away into eternity...

Where did that tree grow, which winds was it exposed to?Did someone mourn someone underneath?Why did thunder avoid striking it, mother of Peter ?Who spat in his hands and fell it?

My dear and only one ... why did you wake me up?I was so close to the underside of time...A tree is hiding in my chest...Where is something going to sprout up from that seed I'd like to know...

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