As a cursed sailboat
Through the thick and livid darkness
The railway station is appearing.
Oh, good evening Banja Luka!
No, I am not coming in,
I am just passing by.
We haven't seen each other for a long time.
Is a soldier's overcoat honor?
I know, she is sleeping now
But maybe sometimes
Crazy soldier walks
Through her mind.
Does she ever think about me
Beside the rain-wet window?
Or wind cleaned it away?
Hey! Beautiful eyes in front of military barrack!
Her family didn't like me,
They asked too much about my origin.
Why is it problem? My family is from this planet!
They also eat bread, they are honest race.
Her baba (muslim's father) was gunpointing me:
''Are you our race's or no?''
I am a Slav, a white man, a rifleman...
What do you want to know? I am myself.
Near Stara Kanjiža (city in Serbia),
A little down beside it,
Tisa (river) flows so slowly.
I will build a city there.
Maybe she will run away from them,
When the grain lay down,
When partridges are brooding.
Maybe she dreams herself coming to me.
Railway-dispatcher is wagging with the red cap:
''The pause time passed, run forward!''
The wind spills a cup of air,
Sleep my mollycoddle, mašalla (''bravo'')
I don't like to be gunpointed,
To be asked if I am their race's or no.
I am a Slav, a white man, a rifleman...
I am myself...