Ђорђе Балашевић - Менует | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Ђорђе Балашевић
• Менует

U pet i petnaest je zvonio sat
jednoga jutra na kraju leta
u šest i deset je kretao voz
s nekog perona na kraju sveta
mene je čekao taj voz

Kraj mojih nogu je spavao pas
rekoh mu tiho: "Hej, beži odatle"
Otvorih vrata, izađoh na trem
na kom su cvetale bele muškatle
pomislih, to je možda taj dom

Nije me čula, mirno je snila
svoje lepeze, i sveće, i čipke
snila je dane, mirne i nežne
k'o crno bele klavirske tipke
a u životu, sama na svetu
u menuetu tražila spas

Siđoh pred kuću na prašnjavi put
k'o neki lopov, polako i tiho
ja nisam bio taj vitez za nju
mada mi govore da sam Don Kihot
al' to je sasvim druga stvar

Bila je zvezda, bila je pesma
svaki dan druga, a večito ista
snila je dobra stara vremena
i svog Šopena, i Baha, i Lista
možda će sama u grubom svetu
u menuetu naći svoj mir

Od tad je prošao vek ili dva
Javi se retko, ponekom kartom
i ko zna gde je, ne želim da zna
koliko čeznem za dalekim martom
kad sam je sreo prvi put

Bila je zvezda, bila je pesma
svaki dan druga, a večito ista
snila je dobra stara vremena
i svog Šopena, i Baha, i Lista
a u životu, sama na svetu
u menuetu tražila spas

Jos uvek lutam, gde je kraj puta
pamte me mnoge provincijske pruge
kriju me mračne, jeftine krčme
noći su ponekad puste i duge

Nestajem tada
u nekom svom svetu i menuetu,
i menuetu...

English Translation

Minuet

At five fifteen the alarm went off
one morning at summer’s end
ten minutes after six, a train was leaving
from a platform at the end of the world
The train was waiting for me

A dog was sleeping next to my legs,
I told him quietly: hey, get lost!
I opened the door, went out onto the porch
where white pelargoniums blossomed
I thought: maybe that’s the home

She didn’t hear me, she was peacefully dreaming of her fans
and flowers, and laces
she was dreaming of days, peaceful and gentle
like the black and white piano keys
and in reality, alone in the world,
she sought salvation in minuet

I went off in front of the house on a dusty road
like a thief, slowly and quietly
I wasn’t the knight for her
although they say I’m a Don Quixote
but that’s an entirely different thing

She was a star, she was a song
every day different, but eternally the same
She dreamt of the good old times
and of her Chopin, Bach and Liszt
Maybe alone in a harsh world she will,
in minuet, find her peace

A century or two have passed
Now and then she sends a card
And who knows where she is, I don’t want her to know
how much I long for the long gone March
when I first met her

She was a star, she was a song
every day different, but eternally the same
She dreamt of the good old times
and of her Chopin, Bach and Liszt
and in reality, alone in the world,
she sought salvation in minuet

I’m still wandering, where’s the end of the road
many provincial railroads remember me
dark, cheap taverns are hiding me
the nights are sometimes thick and long

Then I disappear
into a world of my own and in minuet
in minuet