Source text in English — View comments about this source text » | Translation #14372 |
Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down Well, I woke up Sunday morning With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt. And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad, So I had one more for dessert. Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes And found my cleanest dirty shirt. Then I washed my face and combed my hair And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day. I'd smoked my mind the night before With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking. But I lit my first and watched a small kid Playing with a can that he was kicking. Then I walked across the street And caught the Sunday smell of someone's frying chicken. And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost Somewhere, somehow along the way. On a Sunday morning sidewalk, I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned. 'Cause there's something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone. And there's nothing short a' dying That's half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down. In the park I saw a daddy With a laughing little girl that he was swinging. And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the songs they were singing. Then I headed down the street, And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing, And it echoed through the canyon Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday. On a Sunday morning sidewalk, I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned. 'Cause there's something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone. And there's nothing short a' dying That's half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down. | Nedelja je svanula Ustao sam u nedelju ujutru A u glavi pucalo mi ko na bojnom polju Baš mi leglo pivo za doručak Pa sam poneo još jedno sa sobom na WC šolju Među odećom pobacanoj no podu Našao sam svoju najmanje prljavu šulju Umio sam se i zalizao u stranu I skotrljao se niz stepenice u rulju Baš sam se napušio prethodno veče I plaćao svaku pesmu po hiljadu dindži A sad sam zapalio prvu i gledao nekog klinca Kako prstima secka lubenice u frut nindži A onda sam prešao ulicu I namirisao prženu piletinu iz Meka I setio se krilaca koja ždrao sam k'o klinac I koja sad deluju toliko daleka Na ulici u nedelju ujutru Kako bih voleo da sam naduvan Jer ima nešto nedelji Što čini da se osećam tako sam Na uspavanom gradskom trotoaru Tišina u srce me ganula Da li postoji išta samotnije od zvuka Nedelje koja je upravo svanula U parku sam video nekog ćaleta Ljuljao je ćerkicu i zajedno su se smejali Zastao sam pored uličnih svirača I poslušao pesmu koju su pevali A dalje niz ulicu nešto je zvonilo Paralo mi uši i peklo mi oči I odzvanjalo u praznini moje glave Kao nestali snovi od prethodne noći |
Discussion about Poetry with a tune: "Translation of Lyrics" in English to Serbian - Entry #14372 | |||||||||
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macimovic Netherlands Local time: 22:50 English to Serbian + ...
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