Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mižerja, artist - Oliver Dragojevic. Album song 100 Originalnih Pjesama, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 31.12.2012
Record label: croatia
Song language: Croatian
Mižerja(original) |
I bez zlata i bez luši |
Sva su blaga ti u duši |
Kad ogrije te jubav, |
Puno sunca i tepline, |
Pa se srce nebu vine, |
U ditinjstvu bez suza. |
Malo šoldi, puno vire, |
U toj jubavi bez mire, |
I vagun dobre voje, |
U kantunu puno mista, |
Misal je ka arja čista, |
Pa pišen pisme svoje. |
Mižerja, mižerja… |
Mižerja, mižerja… |
Viruj, viruj, pismo moja, |
Ti jedina znaš di san ostavi dušu, |
Miruj, miruj, pismo moja, |
Jer kasno je sad, ladni vitri već pušu… |
Mižerja, mižerja, |
Tek pusta mižerja… |
Kad bi partile ferate, |
Strepija san, «stari», za te, |
Ta briga se ne gasi. |
Zgrbjena si, majko, stala, |
Bjankariju tuju prala, |
Pobilile ti vlasi. |
Jedna pisma iz đardina |
Smantala je vašeg sina, |
On cili vik je slidi, |
Zlatnin nožen posrid srca |
Probola ga, neka grca, |
Nek cili šug iscidi. |
Mižerja, mižerja… |
Mižerja, mižerja… |
Viruj, viruj, pismo moja, |
Ti jedina znaš kako boli lipota, |
Miruj, miruj, pismo moja, |
Jer vidit ćeš kad zbrojiš konte života — |
Mižerja, mižerja, |
Tek pusta mižerja. |
(translation) |
And without gold and without lushi |
All treasures are in your soul |
When love warms you, |
Lots of sun and warmth, |
So the heart of heaven rises, |
In childhood without tears. |
A little shit, a lot of boils, |
In that love without peace, |
And a wagon of good warfare, |
There are a lot of places in the cantonment, |
The thought is ka arja pure, |
So he wrote his letters. |
Miser, miser… |
Miser, miser… |
Whirl, whirl, my letter, |
You are the only one who knows where a dream leaves a soul, |
Rest, rest, my letter, |
Because it's late now, the cold winds are already blowing… |
Miser, miser, |
Running a meager… |
If you were partying ferrata, |
Strepija san, «stari», za te, |
That concern is not extinguished. |
You're hunched over, mother, stop, |
Bjankari's foreign laundry, |
Your hair is white. |
One letter from the garden |
She thought of your son, |
He cili vik is slidi, |
Golden foot in the middle of the heart |
She stabbed him, let him cramp, |
Let chili shugu squeeze out. |
Miser, miser… |
Miser, miser… |
Whirl, whirl, my letter, |
You're the only one who knows how painful lipota is, |
Rest, rest, my letter, |
For you will see when you add up the accounts of life - |
Miser, miser, |
Just let go of misery. |