Резултати претраге страна 6

Гледај!

Осећаш се великом,
али то осећање мене чини малим.
Питај ме шта ради,
отвори очи,
гледај, гледај!
 
Шта год да желиш од мене,
шта год да желиш од мене,
моја љубав према свету је већа,
моја љубав према свету је већа.
Ово је моја прича,
питај ме шта ради.
Отвори очи,
гледај, гледај!
 
(превео Гаврило Дошен)
 

Најмрачнији час

Versions: #1
Најмрачнији је час
у нашој шумској кући.
Попео си се до мог срца
и дошао си сам.
 
То је савршен свет,
ја сам савршена девојка.
Ти си ноћна мора,
а ја сам сан.
 
То је савршен свет,
ја сам савршена девојка.
 
Најмрачнији је час
у нашој шумској кући.
Попео си се на дрво до мог срца
и дошао си сам.
 
То је савршен свет,
Ја сам савршена девојка.
То је савршен свет,
а ја сам сан.
 
Ја сам сан.
 
Најмрачнији је час.
 
(превео Гаврило Дошен)
 

Цвет без саксије

Рекла си: „Нисам ништа без тебе, буди увек са мном,
иначе ћу умрети, цвета без саксије не може бити“.
 
Како сам погрешио, веровао сам твојим речима.
Како сам погрешио, веровао сам твојим речима.
 
Једног хладног јесењег дана, разбила си саксију.
Као невеста цвећа, седела си у стакленику.
 
Поново долази пролеће, опет те доносе
као украсни цвет, посадиће те у стакленику
 
Поново ћеш рећи саксији „Буди увек са мном“.
Рећи ћеш: „Умрећу без тебе, цвета без саксије не може бити“.
 
Како греше, верују твојим речима.
Како греше, верују твојим речима.
 
(превео Гаврило Дошен)
 

Цвет без саксије

Рекла си: „Нисам ништа без тебе, буди увек са мном,
иначе ћу умрети, цвета без саксије не може бити“.
 
Како сам погрешио, веровао сам твојим речима.
Како сам погрешио, веровао сам твојим речима.
 
Једног хладног јесењег дана, разбила си саксију.
Као невеста цвећа, седела си у стакленику.
 
Поново долази пролеће, опет те доносе
као украсни цвет, посадиће те у стакленику
 
Поново ћеш рећи саксији „Буди увек са мном“.
Рећи ћеш: „Умрећу без тебе, цвета без саксије не може бити“.
 
Како греше, верују твојим речима.
Како греше, верују твојим речима.
 
(превео Гаврило Дошен)
 

I Am the Dust Beneath the Feet of

My heart is intoxicated with the omnipotent one's heady brew
My body throbs with joy at the Beloved's company
 
I am not the only one intoxicated in this tavern
For I count Junaid Baghdadi (RA), Abu Bakr Al Shibli (RA), and Fariduddin Attar (RA) among my fellow inebriates
 
Due to the enchanting effect of Shamsuddin Tabriz's blessed visage
Even the clerics in the marketplace walk around in a state of intoxication
 
***
 
I am the dust beneath the feet of the inebriates of the Kharabaat
May my life be sacrificed for the ruby red lips of the beauteous beloved's of the Kharabaat
 
My prayers comprise nothing but tormenting my heart and destroying my Self
I offer my prostrations towards the arched eyebrows of the beauties of the Kharabaat
 
I am a mirror, a reflection of my Beloved, a treasure-chest of secrets
Smitten by the wonder of love, I am now the pride of Kharabaat
 
I am a reflection of all that is real and true
I do not claim to be God but I am a manifestation of His majesty
I have lost my bearings in this curious search for answers
If I do not exist, why am I here? And if I do, what am I?
 
Like a mirror, whenever I come before Him
All I see within me is a reflection of His being
 
Look at my face and tell me, whose reflection do you see?
I am a reflection of my Beloved, for I have lost myself within Him
Whoever wishes to catch a glimpse of You, should observe me instead
For You are reflected in me, just as I am a reflection of you
 
Word for word, whatever you heard in that realm, you shall hear here
There isn't one hair breadth of a difference between here and there, it's plain to see
It is the very essence of 'Believe, for this is a narration of true events'
The face of mine that you see, it's the spitting image of the Beloved's visage
The same feature, the same complexion

I'm searching for the blue bird

I'm searching for the blue bird
I'm searching for the blue bird
Youth is always
Like the sky that embraced dreams
 
Someone rumored that you live
In the forest of the city
The key of graduation opens
And an important love escaped
 
Until the day you catch me
Tenderly in your arms
While I turn into smiles
My aching feelings
 
I'm searching for the blue bird
I'm searching for the blue bird
The bent hourglass
Is like the wind in the dreams
 
Just with a letter
My loneliness won't fade
Following the road of fantasy
I breath a loving that grows stronger
 
Because suddenly I want to jump
Into your far arms someday
Turning the sepia photographs
I embrace memories
 
I'm searching for the blue bird
I'm searching for the blue bird
Opening the window alone
I look at the wide sky
 
I'm searching for the blue bird
I'm searching for the blue bird
Youth is always
Like the sky that embraced dreams
 

Lovely Honey

Every sunday
I come to see you
Oh, when will it be Sunday?
lovely honey1, so I return...
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
 
I would very much wish
that the whole week
lovely honey, was sunday...
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
 
I would very much wish
that the whole week
lovely honey, was sunday...
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
 
Tree of hope
Keep firm.
Don't let your eyes cry
lovely honey, when I said goodbye...
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
 
Because if I see
tears in your eyes,
lovely honey, I won't say goodbye...
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
 
Because if I see
tears in your eyes,
lovely honey, I won't say goodbye...
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
 
Every sunday
I come to see you
Oh, when will it be Sunday?
lovely honey, so I return...
 
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Sing and don't cry,
because hearts cheer up by singing
lovely honey...
 
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Sing and don't cry,
because hearts cheer up by singing
lovely honey...
 

• 1. the endearing word, not the substance

A Young Girl Is The Real Treasure

There is a story told by a father of a son
that there was once to a miserly old man
a one and only beautiful daughter
he wanted her to marry without a dowry
 
A young girl is the real treasure
don't need anything else
as an addition to such a wonderful treasure
 
They went and married despite it all
because they knew that the world is beautiful and big
and on a tall mountain they built their house
and lived happily together somewhere.
 
A young girl is the real treasure...
 
One day the house of the old man burned down
the treasures that he collected burned as well
and the man knocked on the door of the couple
but the bridegroom then said to the man:
 
A young girl is the real treasure...
 

Without You

You looked at me,
And gave me your hand.
And, without you saying anything,
I became speechless.
You swept me off my feet.
 
I told you farewell

Lemon Green

Hetho va nhamay va nhambane1
Hini guthi nha mafu
Tsivha nha liphuvho
Gu vhevhuga nha mathi
Ni tsilva nha nilo
 
//Oh, midnight moonlight
Shine down here//
//Because I've lost my lover
And, in the dark, I can't find them//
 
//Oh, lemon
Green lemon
I'm single
Not married
Oh, lemon
Oh, green lemon
My soulmate
Give me your hand//
 
//My lover's eyers
Are just like little pepper grains
//I fell in love with them at church
When I've drunk of holy water//
 
//Oh, lemon
Green lemon
I'm single
Not married
Oh, lemon
Oh, green lemon
My soulmate
Give me your hand//
 

My Seasons Are Us

My seasons are us.
My seasons are us.
We fall in love in the spring and summer...
My seasons are us.
My seasons are us.
...then break up in the fall and winter.
Right now is the season we spent together.
Don't you have any regret?
My seasons are us
 
I even forgot that the weeds growing
by the roadsides had names.
These are beings that don't scream
even if you step over them without noticing.
 
Talking to somebody troubles me,
and I cast my eyes down unable to hear them.
You abruptly unplugged an earphone
from my ear.
 
What did you say now?
 
Before the sun comes back,
I'm surely able to meet my special one.
If that doesn't miss, I'd be unworthy of you.
Don't reject my love for you.
 
You're my seasons.
You're my seasons.
Appearing in front of me...
You're my seasons.
You're my seasons.
...you light up every single day of mine.
This scenery is different from yesterday's.
Living is about change.
You're my seasons.
Ha-
 
Although the deep winds blowing through the street
let out a certain scent,
I had no interest in
reminiscing so much.
 
My radius is 1m,
and I got an invisible barrier spread through another world.
This is what I am,
and you took me out of there.
 
What made you do that?
 
Momentary lights accumulate,
and the occasional colors create the four seasons.
Even if any of them cease to exist,
there will be no eternity.
 
We're our seasons.
We're our seasons.
We fall in love in the spring and summer...
We're our seasons.
We're our seasons.
...then break up in the fall and winter.
This is our life, transient and oppressive.
Don't forget that.
 
Look at the cherry trees all with no flowers.
Have you thought of a day where they'll fully bloom?
If you don't imagine it,
you won't be able to dream of it.
This is the window of your heart.
 
During our parting, you taught me
that the four seasons can become something new.
 
You're my seasons.
You're my seasons.
Appearing in front of me...
You're my seasons.
You're my seasons.
...you light up every single day of mine.
 
We're our seasons.
We're our seasons.
We fall in love in the spring and summer...
We're our seasons.
We're our seasons.
...then break up in the fall and winter.
It was the first time I felt my heart throb.
The memories of that love are my calendar.
We're our seasons.
Ha-
 
I'm also my seasons.
 

(Моја) Богородице

Поља пуна наранџи, о, о, Богородице
Тамо где се поља маслина протежу са краја на крај
Око њих, морске обале блистају као злато, о Богородице
И заслепе те, заслепе те као јарка светлост.
 
Када дођеш на ово место, о, о, Богородице
И угледаш, угледаш шаторе у редовима,
То није камп за туристе, о, о, Богородице
То су само, само избеглице.
 
Моја Богородице, моја Богородице, смири моје срце
Моја Богородице, моја Богородице, смири моје срце
 
А ако угледаш развејане рушевине, о, о, Богородице
То није из других, других времена
Све је спаљено напалмом, о, о, Богородице
Од јуче, то је безбројно, смрвљено камење
А ако видиш тек узорану земљу, о, о, Богородице
То нису плодна поља, поља
На њима су посађени крстови, о, о, Богородице
Који ће се распасти, распасти са временом.
 
Моја Богородице, моја Богородице, смири моје срце
Моја Богородице, моја Богородице, смири моје срце
 

Daughter of the wind

They have come.
They invade your blood.
They smell of feathers,
of absences,
of weeping.
 
But you feed fear
and solitude
like two small animals
lost in the desert.
 
They have come
to ignite the age of sleep.
A farewell is your life.
 
But you hug yourself
like a serpent maddened with movement
that only finds itself
because there is no one.
 
You weep beneath the weeping,
you open the coffer of your desires
and you are more rich than the night.
 
But it's so lonely
that the words commit suicide.
 

The night

I don't know much about the night
but the night seems to know about me
and still greater, attends to me as if she wanted me,
she covers my consciousness with her stars.
 
Maybe the night is life and the sun death.
Maybe the night is nothing
and the conjectures about her nothing
and the beings that live her nothing.
Maybe words are the only things that exist
in the enormous void of the centuries
that scratch our souls with their memories.
 
But the night must know the misery
that drinks our blood and our ideas.
She must cast hatred in our gazes
Knowing them to be full of interests, of disagreements.
 
But it so happens that I hear the night weep in my bones.
Her immense teardrop raves mad
and shouts that something has gone away forever.
 
Someday we will be again.
 

Roughly good

Dude, don't cry at night
It's time to look for the essential
Babe, yesterday your reproaches were harsh
It doesn't matter, everything's roughly the same yet
 
Mum, don't be so worried
Everything's going to be roughly good
Dad, I need some money
So everything could be going roughly good
 
Roughly good
Roughly good
Roughly good
Roughly good
 
Dudes, let's make a rock and roll band
'Guitars kept in the closet'
Now we're new rock and roll makers
Calm, everything's going to be roughly good
 
Roughly good
Roughly good
Roughly good
Roughly good
 
Stranger, I hope your problems get over
And so get back to the path of good
Stranger, bend your energy in equal parts
And everything's going to be roughly good
 
Looking at the food already cold
I don't think it's been done with love
It doesn't matter, today we're goint to celebrate as a family
Wich is still roughly as I like it
 
Roughly good
Roughly good
Roughly good
Roughly good
 
Roughly good
Roughly good
Roughly good
Roughly good
Roughly good
 

Big Guy

Versions: #1
You used to say

Wine of Love

If you have tasted the wine of love
The seas, oceans, and the lakes are one
My master, my sultan
 
If you have read the words of the creator
The author, the pen, and the hand that grasps the pen are all one
My master, my sultan
 
Those that do not know themselves can not be called wise
For one can not add yeast to a milk that has not yet boiled
My master, my sultan
 
I have fallen in love with a saint whose love I can not get enough of
For love, passion, and affection are all one
My master, my sultan
 
If all your deeds were in secret and sacred
If you have filled yourself with the wine of love
My master, my sultan
 
If you are faithfully in love with the creator
Ali, Veli and saint are all one
My master, my sultan
 
I Kul Huseyin have become a servant of the beautiful saint
Because of this love I have withered and faded
My master, my sultan
 
I have come into this mortal life and fulfilled my labour
For labour, profit, and income are all one
My master, my sultan
 

Lucio Vázquez

The peacocks flew
to the Sierra Mojada,
they killed Lucio Vázquez
over a girl that he loved.
 
At 11 in the evening
Lucio was having dinner,
a few friends arrived
to invite him to a fandango.
 
His mother told him:
Beware of deceit,
don't go my dear son,
my heart is telling me this.
 
Don't cry dear mother,
your weeping torments me,
I'm going to go see a girl
that you know I love dearly.
 
They rode on their horses
to the Sierra Mojada,
when they arrived at the dance,
his rival was already waiting for him.
 
When they arrived at the dance
everyone was in full swing,
so was that thoughtless girl
whom Lucio loved dearly.
 
They offered him a drink
which he refused to accept,
they exchanged words
and went outside to fight.
 
They stabbed him three times
in the back and in his heart,
just as his mother had said,
they killed him treacherously.
 
The peacocks flew
to the Sierra Mojada,
they killed Lucio Vázquez
over a girl that he loved.
 

Nothing before you

Forget about me
Before the world turns into a boundless depth
Before the ground falls from underneath our feet
 
Forget about me quickly
Before this closeness burns us
That came out of nowhere
 
Forget about me easily
Before our suns go out
Before the dawn comes for the last time
 
Forget about me lying
That the hearts won’t break
That this is just a one big myth
 
There was nothing here before you
And after you there won’t be anything as well
 
Forget about me when
I will look at the different side of the world
Leave me with no unnecessary words
 
Forget about me tomorrow
Before by this leaky boat
I will sail into the ocean of memories again
 
There was nothing here before you
And after you there won’t be anything as well
 

I have a daughter

I have a daughter that the king does have one like that
She has a face that moon does have one like that
There is no match for her beauty
 
I will not give her away to anyone
I will not give her away to everybody
I will not give her away to long distances
I will not give her away to unjust words
 
I will give her in marriage to some one who has prestige
who has a shirt made of satin
I will give her in marriage to some one who has prestige
who has a shirt made of satin
 
If the king comes with his army
the princes around him
and he asks for his youngest son
 
Should I agree to give her ?
Should I disagree to give her?
Should give or should I not give?
 
I will give her in marriage to some one who has prestige
who is a king, who is an angel
I will give her in marriage to some one who has prestige
who is a king, who is an angel
 
My daughter is my best friend
she is a sympathetic soulmate
she is a gem , a precious stone
she is a jewel made of agate
 
My daughter is her dad's supporter
she a candle in her dad's dark nights
in the garden of this world
she is flower without any thorns.
 
I have a daughter that the king does have one like that
She has a face that moon does have one like that
There is no match for her beauty
 
I will not give her away to this one or that one
I will not show her away to everyone
I will not give her away to the suitor that proposed
I will not give her away to every land
 
I will give her in marriage to some one who has prestige
who has a shirt made of satin
I will give her in marriage to some one who has prestige
who has a shirt made of satin
 
If the king comes
in his heyday
with thousand of gifts and treasures
 
Should I agree to give her ?
Should I disagree to give her?
Should give or should I not give?
 
I will give her in marriage to some one who has prestige
who has a shirt made of satin
I will give her in marriage to some one who has prestige
who has a shirt made of satin