Portret mog života - Đorđe Balašević

Mesec prosipa bokal fosfora

Vitraz mraza na oknu prozora

Jedne noci ko ova znace Bog

Doslikacu portret zivota svog

Silueta se davno nazire

Neko uzdahne, neko zazire

Isto vide, a razno tumace

Djavo prste u farbu umace

Ref

Prave si boje dodala

Na taj portret zivota mog

Talase plave, nijansu lave

Vrtloge zelenog

I lila tamnu ceznjivu

I boju breskve neznu

I sramezljivu

Setno sivu nepogresivu

Roze nadjoh medj' starim pismima

Modru vrpcu nad teskim mislima

Ukrah ridju iz pera drozdova

Laki purpur iz prvih grozdova

Uzeh oker sa svece svecarske

Drap sa svilene masne becarske

Mrku s tambure tuznih tonova

A cinober sa nosa klovnova

Ref

A crnu nisi stedela

Ali bez nje bi bela

Jos izbledela

Bez crne bela ne bi vredela

Srce je moje napuklo

K’o kora starog bagrema

Al' u tvom oku

Kao lane zadrema

I jedva kao sapati

Nicu po uglovima

Zlatne paprati

Pramen sna u sliku navrati

Vetar dokono senke spopada

Huk u ambis tisine propada

Jedne noci k’o ova, znace Bog

Doslikacu portret zivota svog

The moon spills a jug of phosphorus

Stained glass frost on the window pane

One night like this means God

I will paint a portrait of my life

The silhouette has long been in sight

Someone sighs, someone hesitates

He saw the same, but interpreted differently

The devil's fingers dip in the paint

Ref

You added the right colors

On that portrait of my life

Waves blue, shade of lava

Vortices of green

And lilac dark longing

And the peach color is gentle

And shy

Setno gray unmistakable

I found roses among the old letters

A blue ribbon over heavy thoughts

Ukrah ridju from the feathers of thrushes

Light purple from the first clusters

I took the ocher from the candlelight

Drape with silk greasy becarska

Darkness from the tambourine of sad tones

A cinnabar is the nose of a clown

Ref

And you didn't spare the black one

But without her, she would be white

Still faded

Without black, white would not be worth it

My heart is broken

Like the bark of an old acacia tree

But in your eye

He falls asleep like last year

And barely a whisper

They're going around the corners

Golden ferns

A strand of sleep came into the picture

The wind lazily casts a shadow

The hook in the abyss of silence collapses

One night like this, it means God

I will paint a portrait of my life