Najlepša tužna pesma

  • Začetnik teme Začetnik teme ms
  • Datum pokretanja Datum pokretanja
Branko Miljkovic
UZALUD JE BUDIM

Budim je zbog sunca koje objasnjava sebe biljkama
zbog neba razapetog izmedju prstiju
budim je zbog reci koje peku grlo
volim je usima
treba ici do kraja sveta i naci rosu na travi
budim je zbog dalekih stvari koje lice na ove ovde
zbog ljudi koji bez cela i imena prolaze ulicom
zbog anonimnih reci trgova budim je
zbog manufakturnih pejzaza javnih parkova
budim je zbog ove nase planete koja ce mozda
biti mina u raskrvavljenom nebu
zbog osmeha u kamenu drugova zaspalih izmedju dve bitke
kada nebo nije bilo vise veliki kavez za ptice nego aerodrom
moja ljubav puna drugih je deo zore
budim je zbog zore zbog ljubavi zbog sebe zbog drugih
budim je mada je to uzaludnije negoli dozivati pticu zauvek sletelu
sigurno je rekla: neka me trazi i vidi da me nema
ta zena sa rukama deteta koju volim
to dete zaspalo ne obrisavsi suze koje budim
uzalud uzalud uzalud
uzalud je budim
jer ce se probuditi drukcija i nova
uzalud je budim
jer njena usta nece moci da joj kazu
uzalud je budim
ti znas voda protice ali ne kaze nista
uzalud je budim
treba obecati izgubljenom imenu necije lice u pesku.

 
Ispravite me ako grešim, ali pesma Starry, starry night nastala je mislju Vinsenta van Gog-a koji ju je napisao gledajući u jednu svoju sliku. Pesma odiše posebnim emocijama i to je jedina pesma na engleskom jeziku koju je glupo prevoditi. Samo citanje stvara magiju. :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
 
Kada smo vec kod D.M :

Osecam veceras, dok posmatram laste
i pupoljke rane,
kako srce moje polagano raste
k'o vidik u lepe, nasmejane dane;

kako s mladim biljem postaje sve vece
i lako k'o krilo,
kako mu celo jedno nebo srece
i pakao bola ne bi dosta bilo;

Kako cezne za svim sto bi zivot mog'o
lepog da mu dade,
i da mu nicega ne bi bilo mnogo:
tako su mu velike ceznje mu i nade.

Osecam, da dosad sve je bilo sala
moga srca vrela;
da jos nikom nisam ljubav svoju dala
koliko bih mogla i koliko htela;

Da ima u meni cela nezna plima
reci nereceni',
da bih srce mogla poklanjati svima
i da opet mnogo ostane ga meni.

p.s.Proletnje pesme

8) 8)
 
ms:
Ispravite me ako grešim, ali pesma Starry, starry night nastala je mislju Vinsenta van Gog-a koji ju je napisao gledaju?i u jednu svoju sliku. Pesma odiše posebnim emocijama i to je jedina pesma na engleskom jeziku koju je glupo prevoditi. Samo citanje stvara magiju. :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
Kliknite za proširenje...

Pesmu je napisao Don Mc Lean inspirisan njegovom slikom koja se ,valjda,zove "zvezdano vece" a obraca se Van Gogu "...now I understand what you trie to say to me,are you suffer for your sanity,how you trie to set me free.....colours changing you.."itd to je ono sto sam iz malog mozga izvukla,valjda je ok? Just to let you know :wink:
 
Starry, starry night,
paint your palette blue and gray.
Look out on a summer's day,
with eyes that know the darkness in my soul.

Shadows on the hills.
Sketch the trees and the daffodils.
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
in colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand,
what you tried to say to me.
And how you suffered for your sanity.
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze.
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue.
Morning fields of amber grain.
Weathered faces lined in pain,
are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand,
what you tried to say to me.
And how you suffered for your sanity,
and how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
but still your love was true.
And when no hope was left inside on that starry, starry night,
you took your life as lovers often do.
But I could have told you Vincent,
this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night,
portraits hung in empty halls.
Frameless heads on nameless walls,
with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
the ragged men in ragged clothes.
The silver thorn, a bloody rose,
lie crushed and broken on the virgin soil.

Now I think I know,
what you tried to say to me.
And how you suffered for your sanity,
and how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...

;)
 
Incognito:
Starry, starry night,
paint your palette blue and gray.
Look out on a summer's day,
with eyes that know the darkness in my soul.

Shadows on the hills.
Sketch the trees and the daffodils.
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
in colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand,
what you tried to say to me.
And how you suffered for your sanity.
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze.
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue.
Morning fields of amber grain.
Weathered faces lined in pain,
are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand,
what you tried to say to me.
And how you suffered for your sanity,
and how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
but still your love was true.
And when no hope was left inside on that starry, starry night,
you took your life as lovers often do.
But I could have told you Vincent,
this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night,
portraits hung in empty halls.
Frameless heads on nameless walls,
with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
the ragged men in ragged clothes.
The silver thorn, a bloody rose,
lie crushed and broken on the virgin soil.

Now I think I know,
what you tried to say to me.
And how you suffered for your sanity,
and how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...

;)
Kliknite za proširenje...

Ovo isto sam i ja htela da uradim i hoću.

STARRY

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer’s day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now

For they could not love you
But still, your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could’ve told you, Vincent
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can’t forget
Like the strangers that you’ve met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They’re not listening still
Perhaps they never will.

Vincent van Gogh


:P :P :P :P :P :P :P :P :P :P :P

DA LI IMA JOŠ NEKO DA NAM SE PRIDRUŽI? :wink: :wink:
 
butterfly:
ms:
Ispravite me ako grešim, ali pesma Starry, starry night nastala je mislju Vinsenta van Gog-a koji ju je napisao gledaju?i u jednu svoju sliku. Pesma odiše posebnim emocijama i to je jedina pesma na engleskom jeziku koju je glupo prevoditi. Samo citanje stvara magiju. :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
Kliknite za proširenje...

Pesmu je napisao Don Mc Lean inspirisan njegovom slikom koja se ,valjda,zove "zvezdano vece" a obraca se Van Gogu "...now I understand what you trie to say to me,are you suffer for your sanity,how you trie to set me free.....colours changing you.."itd to je ono sto sam iz malog mozga izvukla,valjda je ok? Just to let you know :wink:
Kliknite za proširenje...

CAO

HVALA TI NA OBAVEŠTENJU. STVARNO SAM MISLILA DA JE TO NJEGOVA PESMA. A VIDELA SAM I SLIKU PO KOJOJ JE NASTALA PESMA STARRY I PRIKAZUJE NE ZVEZDANO VEČE VEĆ VEČE UŽASNE USAMLJENOSTI AUTORA SLIKE I PESME. BAR SAM JE JA TAKO DOŽIVELA. A ZNAMO DA JE VINCENT VAN GOG IMAO TEŽAK ŽIVOT I DA JE BOLOVAO OD (JA MISLIM) ŠIZOFRENIJE. IMA LI JOŠ NEKA INFORMACIJA NA OVU TEMU? DA LI NEKO ZNA GDE SE NALAZI TA SLIKA, U KOM MUZEJU? :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:

MS :lol: :lol: :lol:
 
Ako me sretnes negdje po gradovima stranim,
po kojima se muvam u posljednje vrijeme,
sretni me,
kao da me sreces prvi put.
Nismo li se mi negde vec vidjeli,
kazi...i zaboravi.

Zaboravi dane koje smo nekada zajedno...,
I noci zaboravi...
Gradove kojima smo mijenjali imena,
i ucrtavali u karte samo nama dostupne...
Onaj hlad pod maslinama u nasoj uvali,
uvali mirnih voda.
Otok nas i ime broda pjesnika
koji nas je tamo nosio...

Zaboravi da si ikada rekla da me volis,
i kako se nikada necemo rastati.

Treba zaboraviti naslove knjiga
koje smo zajedno citali,
Filmove koje smo gledali,
Hemfri bogarta i Kazablanku,
narocito zaboravi.

Ulicu divljih kestenova s pocetka Tushkanca,
i onaj nas poliubac na kisi
za koga bi znala reci:
"Nikada necu zaboraviti".
Molim te zaboravi...

I kada kazem da me zaboravis,
kazem ti to zato sto te volim
kazem ti to bez gorcine,

Otvori oci ljubavi,
nasim gradom prosli su tenkovi.
Odnijeli su sa sobom sve sto smo bili,
znali...,imali...
Zato... Zaboravi.

Cemu sjecanja...?
Pogledaj kako tresnja u tvome vrtu,
iznova cvjeta svakoga proljeca.
Nasmijesi se jutru koje dolazi,
zagrli bjelinu novih dana
i zaboravi.

Kasno je vec dragana,hocu da kazem,
zreli smo ljudi,
to jest, nismo vise djeca
i znam da nije lako,

I znam da mozda i boli,...ali pokusaj,
molim te,... pokusaj...zaboravi!

I ako me sretnes negjde u gradovima stranim'
po kojima se muvam u posljednje vrijeme,
sretni me kao da me sreces prvi put;
Nismo li se mi vec negde vidjeli,
Kazi... i zaboravi.

R.Serbedzija
 
Dvanaest i trideset. Brzo je proslo vreme
od devet kada sam upalio lampu,
i seo ovde. Sedeo sam ne citajuci,
i ne govoreci. Sa kim da razgovaram,
potpuno sam u ovoj kuci.

Slika mog mladog tela,
otkad sam u devet upalio lampu,
pronasla me je ovde da me podseti
na zatvorene sobe pune mirisa,
na uzivanje iz proslosti - kakvo drsko uzivanje!
I takodje mi je pred oci iznela
ulice koje sad vise ne prepoznajem,
prepune lokale koji vise ne rade,
i pozorista i kafane sto su nekad postojale.

Slika mog mladog tela dodje
donoseci oci i tuzne uspomene;
zalost u porodici, rastanci,
osecanja mojih rodjaka, osecanja
pomrlih koja se tako malo postuju.

Dvanaest i trideset. Kako je proslo vreme.
Dvanaest i trideset. Kako su prosle godine.

KAVAFI
 
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