Djordje Balasevic - Portret života mog
Mesec prosipa bokal fosfora.
Vitraž mraza na oknu prozora.
Jedne noći, k'o ova, znaće Bog,
Doslikaću portret života svog. Silueta se davno nazire.
Neko uzdahne, neko zazire.
Isto vide a razno tumače,
Đavo prste u farbu umače. REFREN:
Prave si boje dodala na taj portret života mog:
talase plave, nijansu lave, vrtloge zelenog.
I lila, tamnu, čeznjivu,
I boju breskve, nežnu i sramežljivu,
Setno sivu, nepogrešivu. Roze nađoh međ' starim pismima,
Modru vrpcu nad teškim mislima,
Ukrah riđu iz pera drozdova,
Laki purpur iz prvih grozdova. Uzeh oker sa sveće svečarske,
Drap sa svilene mašne bećarske,Djordje Balasevic - Portret života mog - http://ru.motolyrics.com/djordje-balasevic/portret-zivota-mog-lyrics-english-translation.html
Mrku s tambure tužnih tonova
A cinober sa nosa klovnova. REFREN:
Prave si boje dodala na taj portret života mog:
Talase plave, nijansu lave, vrtloge zelenog.
A crnu nisi štedela,
Ali bez nje bi bela još izbledela.
Bez crne bela ne bi vredela. Srce je moje napuklo
K'o kora starog bagrema,
Al' u tvom oku kao lane zadrema.
I, jedva, kao šapati,
Niču u uglovima zlatne paprati.
Pramen sna u sliku navrati. Vetar dokono senke spopada.
Huk u ambis tišine propada.
Jedne noći, k'o ova, znaće Bog,
Doslikaću portret života svog.
Djordje Balasevic - The Portrait Of My Life (Английский перевод)
The Moon spills an ewer of phosphorus.
Frost makes the window glass stained.
Once at night, like this night is, only God knows it,
The portrait of my life will be painted out.
The silhouette is being perceived for a long time.
Somebody sighs, somebody jibs.
They see the same things, but they explain those things as opposite.
Devil dips his fingers into paint colours.
CHORUS:
You painted the portrait of my life with right colours:
Waves of blue, a shade of lava, a whirl of green.
And lilac, dark and longing,
And a colour of peaches, gently and shamefull,
The sad type of gray, faultless.
I found pink in your old letters.
A livid bow over the heavy ideas,
I stole the russet from bird's plumages,
And a light purple from the first grapes.
I took ocher from the candler's candle,
The tan from the silk tie,Djordje Balasevic - Portret života mog - http://ru.motolyrics.com/djordje-balasevic/portret-zivota-mog-lyrics-english-translation.html
The dark from the sad-music drum
The vermilion from clown's nose.
CHORUS:
You painted the portrait of my life with right colours:
Waves of blue, a shade of lava, a whirl of green.
But you added a lot of blacks,
So without black, all the white would have been faded out.
Without black, all the white would have been worthless.
My heart is ruptured
As peel of old tree,
But my heart still sleeps in your eye like fawn.
And, barely, like whispers,
Golden ferns are sprouting in the angle.
A lock of my dream comes into the portrait sometimes.
The idly wind is coming over the shadows.
My roar will disappear in the abyss of the silence.
Once at night, like this night is, only God knows it,
The portrait of my life will be painted out.