You owe me a morning in Nice.. Selma Kopic

We have our mornings to remember in hotels on the beach,
in vineyards, in the center or in the suburbs.
We have our sunsets over the olive groves,
over the castles, over the open sea.
We drove from one to the other like two fugitives.
We stole romantic moments in the ancient alleys,
in the gardens of the restaurants, under the blossoming trees.
I loved opening  the windows wide in the morning,
while you are tired still sleeping on crumpled beds.
But, the morning in Nice is missing in that story.
As we, one late night, approached a brightly lit city,
the phone began to ring.
The worried voices of my friends asked if we were okay,
they heard about the bombing in Nice on the news.
I'm lying to them that we passed Nice a long time ago,
that we have already arrived in Italy.
And your wife called,
she didn't know about the attack,
but she knew how to attack and didn't spare a word.
We spent the night in a romantic village on the coast.
The next day, as we drove on,
it was written on all the traffic lights:
Liberté, égalité, fraternité!
I don't  know French, but I understand the message well.
I didn't  feel fear with you and I didn't care,
whatever happens, let it happen with you,
just so this journey doesn’t  end.
And with every mile, we were getting further and further
away from Nice,
and getting closer to parting.
Saying goodbye to you, a few days later,
I also said goodbye to my Liberté, égalité, fraternité!
For me, it is possible, only with you.

Duguješ mi jutro u Nici

Mi imamo svoja jutra za pamćenje, u hotelima na plaži,
u vinogradima, u centru ili predgrađu.
Imamo svoje zalaske sunca nad maslinicima,
nad zamkovima, nad pučinom.
Vozili smo se od jednog do drugog kao dva bjegunca,
krali smo romantične momente u drevnim uličicama,
u baštama restorana, ispod rascvjetalih stabala.
Voljela sam ujutro otvoriti širom prozore
dok ti umoran još spavaš na izgužvanim krevetima.
Ali jutro u Nici nedostaje u toj priči.
Dok smo se približavali, jedne kasne noći,
blještavo osvijetljenom gradu,
telefon je počeo da zvoni.
Zabrinuti glasovi mojih prijatelja, pitali su jesmo li dobro.
Za bombaški napad u Nici čuli su na vijestima.
Lažem im da smo davno prošli Nicu,
da smo već stigli u Italiju.
I tvoja žena je zvala,
nije znala za napad,
ali je znala napasti i nije štedila riječi.
Prenočili smo u romantičnom seocetu na obali.
Sutradan, dok smo se vozili dalje,
na svim semaforima je pisalo
Liberté, égalité, fraternité!
Ne znam francuski, ali poruku dobro razumijem.
Uz tebe nisam osjećala strah i bilo mi je svejedno,
što god da se desi, neka se desi s tobom,
samo da ovo putovanje ne završi.
A svakim kilometrom bili smo sve dalje od Nice,
i sve bliži rastanku.
Rekavši zbogom tebi, par dana kasnije,
oprostila same se i od svojih Liberté, égalité, fraternité!
Za mene, to je moguće, samo uz tebe.