Menuet
Djordje Balasevic Lyrics

U pet i petnest je zvonio sat, jednoga jutra na kraju leta.
The clock struck five fifteen one summer's morning.

U sest i deset je kretao voz s nekog perona na kraju sveta mene je cekao taj voz...
At six ten, a train departed from a faraway platform, the train that was waiting for me...

Kraj mojih nogu je spavao pas, rekoh mu tiho, "Hej, bezi odatle".
Beside my feet a dog slept, and I whispered to him, "Hey, get out of here".

Otvorih vrata, izadjoh na trem na kom su cvetale bele muskatle.
I opened the door and stepped onto the porch where white musketeers bloomed.

Pomislih, to je, mozda, taj dom.
I thought, maybe this is the place I was looking for.

Nije me cula, mirno je snila svoje lepeze i svece i cipke.
She didn't hear me, she was sound asleep dreaming about fans, candles, and lace.

Snila je dane, mirne i nezne, k'o crno - bele klavirske tipke.
She dreamed of peaceful and gentle days, like black and white piano keys.

A u zivotu, sama na svetu, u menuetu trazila spas.
And in her life, all alone, she searched for solace in a minuet.

Sidjoh pred kucu, na praznjavi put, k'o neki lopov, polako i tiho.
I approached the lonely road in front of the house like a thief, slowly and quietly.

Ja nisam bio taj vitez za nju, mada mi govore da sam Don Quijote ,
I was not the knight in shining armor for her, although some say I'm Don Quixote,

al' to je sasvim druga stvar.
but that's a completely different matter.

Bila je zvezda, bila je pesma, svaki dan druga, a vecito ista.
She was a star, she was a song, different every day yet always herself.

Snila je dobra stara vremena, i svog Chopina i Bacha i Liszta.
She dreamed of the good old times and her Chopin, Bach, and Liszt.

Mozda ce sama, u grubom svetu, u menuetu naci svoj mir.
Maybe she will find her peace all alone, in a rough world, in a minuet.

Od tad je prosao vek ili dva, javi se retko ponekom kartom.
A century or two have passed since then, she rarely writes to anyone.

I ko zna gde je, ne zelim da zna, koliko ceznem za dalekim martom,
And who knows where she is, I don't want to know, how much I long for a faraway land...

kad sam je sreo prvi put.
when I met her for the first time.

Jos uvek lutam, gde je kraj puta? Pamte me mnoge provincijske pruge.
I still wander, where is the end of the road? Many provincial railways remember me.

Kriju me mracne, jeftine krcme, noci su, ponekad, puste i duge.
Dark, cheap inns shelter me. The nights are sometimes quiet and long.

Nestajem tada u nekom svom svetu, i menuetu, i menuetu...
I disappear then into my own world, and into the minuet...