Ratnik paorskog srca [English translation]

When, in 1919, Braca came back from a far battlefield where he was a soldier

He'd tell us about how a bullet hit him, and then pulled up his sleeve and showed it to us

And we, we were youngsters, and we, we were youngsters

Braca used to tell us about the smell of sea and about a patrol he'd ran from

and about how he cursed some major and then later did his time in jail because of it

And we, we were youngsters, and we, we were youngsters

He used to tell us about how he crossed over the Carpathian mountains, how bullets buzzed like swarms of bees

He said: War is a bloody thing you know, but I don't pitty the people nor the villages

Hey, I feel sorry for the horses

When Braca came back, in 1919, he'd tell stories every night in the neighborhood

How many girlies he had on the way and about cannons plowing meadows

And we, we were youngsters, and we, we were youngsters

And as soon as Braca would step out of the yard, our neighborhood crowd would gather

And our eyes were big, hearts full and imagination boyish

Well yes, because then we were youngsters, well yeah, we were youngsters then

... Read More (NB: The first lines might have been changed in the original translation)