Sto života [English translation]

Month is weaving with golden thred

road to your pillow

Somewhere on the end of world

where I'm not going

To who are tonight so firely

your two brownish(caffe color) eyes

frow who you're hidding them

because of whor you are ill

Even if I have hunderd lifes

not yous this little

even than your beauty will

make me sad(wrap me in black)

Should I have rights to know

for who your eyes are burning

Should I have rights to ask

to who you are tonight pouring a glass