Često sam probdio Ispred slikarskoga stalka Besane noći Ispravljajući detalje Na krivulji dojke Na o

Pričam slide ti o vremenu O kojem tinejdžeri ne mogu znati U to doba Montmartre bje ovjenčan ljiljanima Sve do naših prozora, pa premda nam naša skromna namještena soba Što nam je ljubavno gnijezdo bila , nije bila bliska Bilo je to mjesto gdje upoznavasmo sebe Ja što plakah od gladi i Ti pozirajući gola La bohème, la bohème. To značilo je biti sretan. La bohème, la bohème. Mi jeli smo tek jednom na dan.
U susjednim kafićima slide Bili smo ljudi Što čekaju na slavu i premda bijedni I praznih želuca Nikad ne prestasmo vjerovati I kad bi neki kafić U zamjenu za topao obrok Prihvaćao naše platno, govorili smo stihove Okupljali se oko peći, zaboravljajući na zimu. La bohème, la bohème. To značilo je Ti si lijepa La bohème, la bohème. I svi smo bili geniji.
Često sam probdio Ispred slikarskoga stalka Besane noći Ispravljajući detalje Na krivulji dojke Na oblini boka Pa bismo sjedili do zore Do jutarnje kave s mlijekom Iscrpljeni ali razdragani Zasigurno smo tada voljeli jedno drugo i naš život.
Kada bih slučajnog dana Izašao u šetnju Do svojih starih staza Više ne bih prepoznao Ni zidove niti ulice Što gledahu moju mladost Na vrhu stuba Tražio sam knjižaru Od koje ne ostade ni traga U svome novom licu Montmartre slide izgleda tužno, slide a ljiljani usahnuše. La bohème, la bohème. Bili smo tada mladi, bili smo tada ludi La bohème, la bohème. To sad ne znači više ništa
…I slide tell you about a time …That teenagers (lit.: those less than 20 years old) cannot know about …At that time, Montmartre hung its lilacs (pale blue or white, early-blooming flowers) slide …right up to our windows, and even if our humble furnished room …That served us as a (love-)nest didn’t look like much …It was there that we knew each other …Me, crying hunger, and you, posing in the nude
…In the neighbouring cafes …We were people …that waited for glory (fame) slide and although miserable …with empty stomacs (lit.: hollow bellies) …we never stopped believing [in it] and when some pub (of course, ‘bistro’ is a typically french café) …in exchange slide for a warm meal …accepted a painting (lit.: a canvas), we recited verses …gathered around the stove, forgetting about winter.
…Often [it happened to me that], …before my easel, (i.e. the stand upon which a painter puts the canvas he is working on) …I spent sleepless nights …touching up (=making minor corrections to) the drawing …of the line of a breast …of the figure of a hip, and only at morning …one sat down at last …before a café-crème (coffee with much hot milk) …exhausted, but exhillarated …It must have been so that we loved each other, and that we loved life (a rather stiff translation of a fluent French sentence, but I don’t know how to put it otherwise)
…La bohème, la bohème. That meant “one was twenty years old” …La bohème, la bohème and we lived from the ‘spirit of the age’ (That’s literally slide what ‘air du temps’ means, but I’m sure that’s not the right way to put it in English. In French it has the connotation of living from air and nothing else, especially nothing material while at the same time referring to the typical feeling in society at that particular time)
…When, some days in a whim …I go out and take a walk …to my old address …I no longer recognise …nor the walls, nor the streets …that witnessed (lit.: saw) my youth …At the top of a stairway …I search for the workshop …of which nothing remains …In its new décor …Montmartre slide looks sad, and the lilacs have died.
Ime (obavezno)
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