Michalis Dimitriadis - versuri traducere în engleză

English

Heaven's Bouzoukia

Some friends of us, known as drifters, at night-time
they keep on watching and winking to us, from heavens,
they are coming during hours of darkness, like if they were burglars.
They are playing and singing to us, in pain,
their old unconceivable memos.
 
Let's go to heaven's bouzoukia1,
which have a feel of old glorious Byzantine days.
Get rid of the ordinary black decoration of your life
and fill it up with human voices.
 
Some strangers in the nights, long-term prisoners,
they are chanting some yet holy tunes
at heaven's gate, such barrack guards.
Their melodies, and their caress,
their melodies they are uttering, and crying in quiet.
 
Let's go to heaven's bouzoukia1,
which have a feel of old glorious Byzantine days.
Get rid of the ordinary black decoration of your life
and fill it up with human voices.
 
Some friends of us, known as drifters, at night-time
they keep on watching and winking to us, from heavens,
they are coming during hours of darkness, like if they were burglars.
They are playing and singing to us, in pain,
their old unconceivable memos.
 

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