Ne daj se Ines [English translation]

Do not give in, Ines

Don't give in to the years, my Ines

[Nor to] different movements and habits,

Because your room is still warm;

A pleasant design and rare items.

You had better taste than I did.

Your room - splendor -

Your landlady is in the hospital.

You've always distinguished yourself

By the color of your letters, by your gifts.

You followed me to the bus stop the next morning around nine.

The green bus tumbles by

Chased by the autumn breeze, like a leaf

Down one of Belgrade’s hills.

I'm in an evening suit and glances surround me.

Don't give in, my youth

Do not give in, Ines.

Our acquaintance was long in the making

But then, by chance, with sips of warm brandy,

And with only a few sentences formed of poorly concealed desires...

Your demeanor is of a lady and your cheeks are of a peasant girl.

My poor fool and noblewoman.

Your chest - my bed.

And my room was suspended in the air like an orange

Like an orange light,

Over the green and blue waters of Zagreb;

39 Proletarian Street, by Grkovich.

The street was soaked by rain from the window onwards

And the hum of the afternoon street cars.

Beautiful moments of nostalgia,

Love,

And poverty.

The use of a common bathroom

And - please, if someone calls...

Don't give in, Ines - Here I am

Getting up only to flip the record.

Was that improper during such a moment?

Mozart, Requiem, Agnus Dei.

I favor the beginning though.

At my disposal, I have a million more gentle and brash memories of our youth

Which, in front of our own eyes,

Betray us and steal from us and abandon us.

Do not give in, Ines

Tear up that invitation, cancel dinner,

Betray your husband by going to brush your hair

At some better hotel.

Touch me underneath the table with your knee,

My generation, my lover.

I know that there will still be youth,

But never again like ours,

In the middle of 1938.

I will not have anyone to stay young with,

If you all grow old,

And this youth will not easily fall away from me,

But it will turn out that you are right,

Because I am alone on this shore

Which all of you have abandoned with ease.

It starts to rain again,

Like it rains in October on the islands.

[The] sea made of lead and [the] sky made of pines.

Distant voices overlap:

The voice of a mother, that of a friend, of a daughter, a lover, a boat, a brother.

[There are] hastily gathered linens [on the clothesline] before the rain

And the light disappeared amongst that whiteness.

A few more walks along the seashore and it's all over;

Don't give in, Ines.

• Artist:Arsen Dedić