Thursday, January 26, 2012

Pure and platonic love song

This beautifull love song tells about one love at first sight, pure and platonic, with a soul of poet spilled into the paper.

Just while you reading it, you can feel ti, right?

The poet, Predrag Živković Tozovac, is one of the greatest serbian folk-singers, also poet and musician.

I translated a poem into English, with keeping the original sense and with conveing feelings that the poet put into those verses.
In this link, you can hear how it looks like when it is reciting to the accompaniment of an accordion (The man who plays  the accordion is the poet of those verses and the recitor is one great serbian actor, Nenad Okanovic).

Enjoy! 

My lost bird – Mima
                                                                         Predrag Živković - Tozovac


When I met you for the very first time,
you were as runaway bird from someone's hand;
wild and scared at the same time,
neither his, nor yourself, nor mine ...

When I met you for the first time,
you were lost in one tavern in the province,
You walked wearily between tables while sun was rising;
neither yourself, nor his, nor mine ...

When I met you,
you were there from no reason, as my friends acquaintance,
when I met you then,
I was lost, neither your, neither her, nor my ...

I was just one little curious male bird lost in one early morning...
in the middle of the picked up taverna's chairs kingdom...

It was one ordinary morning,
it was one ordinary winter,
and you told me then, just ordinarily: "I am Mima ..."

You were laughing, and then, you went in one of yours sunrises,
and still, neither your, nor his, nor mine ...

I stayed there, to sit with some odd people,
between picked up pub chairs...
 
And... who knows what You thought of me then?!?
Maybe that I am the tippler, fool, or nothing...
and you never ever thinked that also I am a bird escaped from someone's hands,
from some life of exile ...

you left behind  in your shelter,
covered with hotels  blankets ...

I have met you,  a long time after that morning ...
and, and, again, it was the same ... 

Only it took place without your false friend and the tavern in the province.

It was by chance...
just us, just you and just me, alone, in a street,
two morning birds, birds on our hands ...

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