The Beautiful Priest's Daughter (Djordje Balasevic)

I was still very young
hunted some bog birds at the time,
when she came to bathe
the beautiful priest's daughter

She didn't know where I was
that I watched her stealthily through reed and sedge
Night fell over the river
like a cloak

And the moon watches over willow field
swarm of stars silvers in the sky
and water droplets like pearls
that shine all over her

Oh crazy heart, crazy dreams,
all my friends had already had girlfriends
but I wanted only one
the beautiful priest's daughter

Odd song rings on the road
that winter, wedding crowd came for her
from far away, some people
strange to me

And I just walked down the street,
the first snow was falling
And still sometimes bells jingle
that take me who knows where

To get married I have time
So I stayed bachelor till now
and I never saw again
the beautiful priest's daughter

One life peaceful, quiet
I sometimes throw cards or write a verse
life goes on
I stay out of it

And I kiss good ones, easy ones,
some right ones, some not
and they are all fairies, well they are all queens
and they are all irrelevant compared to her

D minor (Djordje Balasevic)

You wander away sometimes and I dream alone
I admit, it’s not working, but I’m trying
and he always comes, D minor

Comes like a thief down the strings,
fills my hands with your thingies
and all of that is hard to go through.

A D minor gets to me,
as soon as you leave – he’s in the room
stupid D minor, always finds out when that is

He grabs me firmly and doesn’t let go
he is crazy about silence, never misses it
Takes me to his blueish home.

A D minor, wrecks me
some would simply call that – sorrow
That’s not it. What is sorrow for a D minor?

Sometimes you’re not around and, all alone,
I’m searching for a way to trick the day a bit
but the D minor is cunning

He lets all lights go dim
waits for the last twinkling stars
pulls my sleeve – Lets go!

He scares me; where are you?
a thousand things might have happened
stupid D minor, who is he mourning for all night

He takes me into his dark carriage
the sky turns into color of your eyes
I know the road, it’s a shortcut to pain

A D minor, wrecks me
some would simply call that – sorrow
That’s not it. What is sorrow for a D minor?

There remained a book with a couple of unread pages
and some small things made of Herendi porcelain
and a pullover that you’ve worn…

There remained a record – The Best of Ry Cooder;
and a classy little powder box
and I remained yearning for you, for as long as I live,
my dear…