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Micki

Εδώ δεν είναι Σαλονίκη

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ΕΔΩ ΔΕΝ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΣΑΛΟΝΙΚΗ

Μουσική: Χρήστος Νικολόπουλος

Στίχοι: Λευτέρης Χαψιάδης

Εδώ δεν είναι Σαλονίκη

δεν είναι εδώ Καλαμαριά

εδώ σε σέρνει απ' το μανίκι

ο πόνος κι η ανημποριά

Εδώ ο ξένος είναι ξένος

κι οι ξένοι γύρω του βουβοί

μικρός φτωχός κυνηγημένος

δεν έχει πόρτα να διαβεί

Εδώ δεν είναι Σαλονίκη

εδώ δεν είναι το Ντεπό

εδώ μονάχα σου ανήκει

η πίκρα απ' τον ξεριζωμό

Εδώ ο ξένος είναι ξένος

κι οι ξένοι γύρω του βουβοί

μικρός φτωχός κυνηγημένος

δεν έχει πόρτα να διαβεί

Here is not Saloniki

Music: Christos Nikolopoulos

Lyrics: Lefteris Chapsiadis

Here is not Saloniki

here is not Kalamaria

here the sleeve (? or handle ?) drags you

the pain and the helplessness

Here the stranger is a stranger

and the strangers surrounding the speechless

little poor hunting (chasing)

here is no door to go across (to pass ?)

Here is not Saloniki

here is not the Depot

here to you only belongs

the bitterness and the uprooting (tear ?)

Here the stranger is a stranger

and the strangers surrounding the speechless

little poor hunting (chasing?)

here is no door to go across (to pass ?)

I'm really not sure at all of this translation. It seems to express my feelings lately, that's all.

Micki

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Me neither, I haven't heard it yet.

It is time for me to go to Greece again, very soon ...

It feels like 'if you don't know what you are missing, where's the problem?' But if you do know, aiaiai ...

Micki

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Miki, I gave it my best shot - and I'm going to pull some experts by the sleeve to come and check our grammar :mad:

This here is not Saloniki

This here is not Saloniki

this here is not Kalamaria

here they are pulling you by the sleeve

the pain and the helplessness

Here the stranger is a stranger

and the strangers around him are mute

poor little hunted one

he has no door to enter

This here is not Saloniki

this here is not Kalamaria

here, all that belongs to you is

the bitterness of being uprooted

Here the stranger is a stranger

and the strangers around him are mute

poor little hunted one

he has no door to enter

From Ο τραγουδιστής - and when am I going to get my hands on _that_ ?

It must be strange, now, in Greece, for people - now that it has become an IMmigration country, after being an EMmigration country for three thousand years.

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Thanks Geeske, it's about what I interpretated. My English is not so ... English though. So I'm glad with your translation.

Micki

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And Geeske says she wants help...Ας γελάσω :D Not only a great translation, but a translation that it can almost be sung.Even when Geeske writes "This here..."and not just "Here..."that makes the verse smoother and rythmical...

(Anyway ,I must admit that I have heard this particular song very few times in the past;thank you for reminding it to me   :) )

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This is not my beloved city, These are not the streets I know.

Here only pain and helplessness

Drag me to the place I go.

 

Here the foreigner feels so foreign,

The other ones stay silent too.

These poor little hunted ones,

They have no door to go through.

 

This is not my beloved city, These are unknown streets I roam. 

All that I own is bitterness, uprooted from what I loved as home.

 

Here the stranger stays a stranger,

The other strangers stay silent too.

These poor little hunted ones,

They have no door to go through.

 

 

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