Portret života mog [English translation]

The moon is spilling a jug of phosphorous.

A vitraj of frost on the window glass.

On a night like this, God will know,

I will finish the portrait of my life.

The silhouette has long been visible.

Some sigh and some are wary.

They see the same thing but interpret it differently,

the Devil is dipping his fingers in the paint.

Chorus:

The right colours you added to that portrait of my life:

Waves of blue, a shade of lava, whirlwinds of green.

And lilac - dark and yearning, and colour of the peach - gentle and shy, melancholy grey - unmistakable.

Pink I found between old letters.

A navy blue ribbon above heavy thoughts.

I stole ginger from the trushes' feathers

Light purple from the first grapes

I've taken ocher from a Christmas candle

Beige, from the silk tie of a bachelor.

Dark, from tambura playing sad tones.

And scarlet from the noses of clowns.

Chorus:

The right colours you added to that portrait of my life:

Waves of blue, a shade of lava, whirlwinds of green.

And you never spared black but without it the white would, after all, fade.

Without black, the white'd be worthless...

My heart is cracked up like old black locust tree bark,

but in your eye doses off like a fawn.

And barely, as if they were whispers

rustyback ferns are sprouting in the corners.

A strand of a dream stops by a painting.

The wind is pestering the shadows idly.

A howl is into the abyss of silence collapsing.

On a night like this, God will know,

I will finish the portrait of my life.

• Artist:Đorđe Balašević