Not a single drinking glass,
Not a single waving tricolor,
Is ours.
Hello you tan Zagorje man,
Sly, ominous, stubborn,
I love you.
Hello, you people over there where the moonlight is soft,
every brother who waits for a trap,
I'll get over.
Hello, every single one of you, with thick eyebrows,
blurry eyes, sad songs,
scary brothers.
The same are our first curse,
knife and the girl in the middle of the village,
and the native shame.
Hello, our boastful women!
With the same tear, pain and passion
our shirts and weddings are sewn.
And what about the celebration which drinks wine,
slavas and churches of our own?
The tear has not yet fallen from the eye,
Still the messengers instead of the dead scream.
Hello, in the home dark stares,
hatred and fighting.
Hello, in shame, yielding, misery
we're brothers, brothers!
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