Poem
Bojan Radašinović
Those Were The Days (12)
12.we will always be strangers here
they hate them
look at them
crowding the streets
Swiss people do not know
how to pronounce our names
they are cold and do not
care for anybody
they have those eye-shields
like horses to look straight ahead
man, it won’t be easy for us here
then we started dancing
and singing Sinatra in translation
Ausländer in der nacht
the room it was dark
I was kissing her hair
thinking
in our case
it will be different
© Translation: 2004, Miloš Ðurdevic
To su bili dani (12)
To su bili dani (12)
12.ovdje ćemo uvijek biti stranci
oni ih mrze
pa vidiš kakvi su
i koliko ih je po ulicama
šviceri ne znaju kako bi
izgovorili naša imena
oni su hladi i nije im
ni do koga stalo
imaju one štitnike za oči
kao konji da gledaju ravno
čovječe neće nam biti lako
onda smo počeli plesati
i pjevati sinatru u prijevodu
ausländer in der nacht
u sobi je bio mrak
ljubio sam joj kosu
mislio sam
u našem slučaju
bit će drugačije
© 2003, Bojan Radašinović
From: Ovdje ćemo uvijek biti stranci
Publisher: AGM, Zagreb
From: Ovdje ćemo uvijek biti stranci
Publisher: AGM, Zagreb
Poems
Poems of Bojan Radašinović
Close
Those Were The Days (12)
12.we will always be strangers here
they hate them
look at them
crowding the streets
Swiss people do not know
how to pronounce our names
they are cold and do not
care for anybody
they have those eye-shields
like horses to look straight ahead
man, it won’t be easy for us here
then we started dancing
and singing Sinatra in translation
Ausländer in der nacht
the room it was dark
I was kissing her hair
thinking
in our case
it will be different
© 2004, Miloš Ðurdevic
From: Ovdje ćemo uvijek biti stranci
From: Ovdje ćemo uvijek biti stranci
Those Were The Days (12)
12.we will always be strangers here
they hate them
look at them
crowding the streets
Swiss people do not know
how to pronounce our names
they are cold and do not
care for anybody
they have those eye-shields
like horses to look straight ahead
man, it won’t be easy for us here
then we started dancing
and singing Sinatra in translation
Ausländer in der nacht
the room it was dark
I was kissing her hair
thinking
in our case
it will be different
© 2004, Miloš Ðurdevic
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