Ne daj se Ines [English translation]

Don't give in Ines

Don't give in to years my Ines

to different moves and habits

because your room is still warm

Pleasant arrangement and rare items...

You had more taste than me

your room, splendor

your landlady is in the hospital.

you always distinguished yourself

by the colored paper of your letters, by gifts

Walked me the next morning around nine to the station

and tumbles down the hill the green bus blown by the autumn wind

Like a leaf down a Belgrade street

I'm in my evening suit and besieged by stares

Don't give in my youth, don't give in Ines

for a long time our acquaintance was prepared

and then all of a sudden with hot brandy

and with merely a couple of sentences, badly disguised desire

your ways of a lady and cheeks of a country girl

peasant , gentlewoman

then your breast, your bed

and my room suspended in the air like an orange

like an orange light over the green and indigo blue waters of Zagreb

street of Proleteriat brigades 39. KOD (culture youth organization) Grkovic

Rain washed street far from the window and hum of night tramways

beautiful moments of nostalgia, love, and powerty

use of common facilities

and 'please if someone should ask for me'

Don't give in Ines

Here I am getting up only to turn over the record

is it improper at this moment?

Mozart Requiem Agnus Dei

the begining is still my favorite

I have at my disposal a million sweet

and indecent moments of our youth

that cheats us before our very eyes, robs and abandons us

Don't give in Ines

Tear up the invitation, cancel the dinner, cheat on your husband

going to fix up your hair in some fancy hotel

touch my knee under the table

my generation, my lover

I know there will be youths

but not like ours, on average 1938

I'll have no one to stay young with me

if all of you grow old

and this youth will be hard

but I suppose you were right

for here I am on this shore that you've abandoned, and surrendered without a fight

and there it starts to rain again

as it rains in November here on the islands

the sea of lead and sky of pine trees

distant voices that blend together

voices of my mother, friends, my daughter, lover, a ship and a brother

hastily gathered laundry before the rain

light that faded with that whiteness

few more walks along the sea and it's over

• Artist:Arsen Dedić