Ne klepechi nanulama|
This simple but beautiful melody is my favorite Bosnian song. I first heard it maybe 12 years ago, at a wedding in Los Angeles where I sat in on bugarija (the equivalent of rhythm guitar) with the Yeseta Brothers tamburica band. They played this tu ne late in the evening, with guests crowded close and singing along, and it burned a hole in my heart. Rick Schneider, who taught me most of what little I know about tamburica music, played it once more for me at his home a year or so later.
That was the last time I heard the song until 1995, when I met a Bosnian musician named Rifat (whose last name I can't recall but will find out and post here) at a singing party at my home in Atlanta.
"There is this Bosnian song I love ... but I can't remember its name," I told Rifat.
"Is it this?" he asked, and played it on guitar. You can imagine how I felt hearing it again after so many years. He taught it to me that night, gave me the words and played it into a tape recorder. The words are those of a son speaking to his wife after visiting his mother's grave. Here it is.
|Ne silazi sa chardaka
i ne pitaj gdje sam bio
zashto su mi ochi plachne
zbog chega sam suze lio
Stajao sam kraj mezara
Ne klepechi nanulama
|Don't come down from the balcony|
and don't ask where I've been
why my eyes are full of tears
why I've been crying
I went to the graveyard
Don't make that noise with your shoes
|Melody, lyrics and translation: Rifat (I'll get his last name), who calls this an old song revived around 1980 by the blind Bosnian singer Husejn Kurtevich (I'm not sure about the spellin g of the name). If you have more information about its origin, please let me know.|