
Date of issue: 22.02.2007
Song language: Bosnian
Quarantine(original) |
Pjevati ću neću stat u muku, |
pripjevaću rumenu jabuku |
što se goji u dvoru babajka. |
Lijepu ti je porodila majka, |
al' zaludu sva joj je ljepota |
i uresa njezina života. |
Kad nemilost provodiće danke |
radi svoga i baba i majke. |
Majka kćerku svoju nagovara, |
a babo je i bije i kara |
da se uda u veliko blago, |
a što služi kad joj nije drago. |
Zato moja, rumena jabuko |
Vilo moja, moja desna ruko |
pozdravi mi starca, baba tvoga |
od starine prijatelja moga. |
Da t’ne bije i ne kara više, |
jer da za mnon tvoje srce diše. |
Nego da te goji lijepo hrani, |
samo za me cvijete izabrani. |
(translation) |
I will sing, I will not stop in pain, |
singing ruddy apple |
which is grown in the grandmother's yard. |
Your mother gave birth to a beautiful one, |
but all her beauty is in vain |
and the ride of her life. |
When grace will pay tribute |
for the sake of my grandmother and mother. |
A mother urges her daughter, |
and the grandmother beats and punishes her |
to marry into a great treasure, |
and what serves when she is not happy. |
That's why my ruddy apple |
My fairy, my right hand |
say hello to the old man, your grandmother |
from the old days of my friend. |
Don't beat and chastise you anymore, |
for to mnon your heart breathes. |
Than to feed you well, |
only for me flowers chosen. |