Junak i tri divojke

Hrani junak tri divojke, hrani junak tri divojke.
Jednu hrani v ravnom polju, drugu hrani v vinskoj gori,
Tretju hrani v belom gradu.
Koju hrani v ravnom polju, ona mu je poručala:
„Dojdi, dojdi, dragi golub, polje ti je obrodilo,
Polje ti je obrodilo,saki snopek po dervenki.“
„Beri žitek, ma divojka, pak ga srani, dok ti dojdem,
Dok ti dojdem vu pohode,
Z gladnom vojskom ranjenikov.“
Koju hrani v vinskoj gori, ona mu je poručala:
„Dojdi, dojdi, dragi golub, gora ti je obrodila,
Svaki trsek po jakovcu.“
„Prešaj grozdje, ma divojka, pak pripravi slatkog mošta,
Dok ti dojdem vu pohode z gladnom vojskom ranjenikov.“
Koju hrani v belom gradu, ona mu je poručala:
„Dojdi, dojdi, dragi golub, sinka sam ti porodila.“
„Hrani mi ga, ma divojka, za dva, za tri lepa leta,
Dok bu jahal, vranog konja, dok bu mahal kunom kapom,
Dok bu ciljal silnom puškom, dok bu kresil svetlom sabljom,
Dok po sinka golub dojde.“
Divojčice, čule glase; dve se žuhkro rasplakale,
Treća se je nasmejala.
Koja bila v ravnom polju, na zemlju je črnu pala,
Doli pala, nigdar stala,
Nije mogla klasje žeti, nit ga sranit za junake.
Koja bila v vinskoj gori, dušicu je isplakala,
Za junakom za golubom,
Nije mogla grozdje brati, nit prešati za junake.
Koja bila v belom gradu, gizdavo se nasmejala.
Kušnula je v čelo dete, pak je ovak zapevala:
„Hranila bum sinka svoga za dva za tri lepa leta
Dok bu jahal, vranog konja, dok bu mahal kunom kapom,
Dok bu ciljal silnom puškom, dok bu kresil svetlom sabljom,
Dok po sinka golub dojde.“
Šetuvala se z boja vojska, šetuvala se gladna vojska,
Došla vojska v ravno polje, vruće su ju rane pekle.
„De si, de si, ma divojka, zakaj si se zaključala?
Zakaj su ti prazni škednji? Zakaj polje zapušćeno?“
Zahman zove vojskovođa, divojčica mrtva bila.
Šetuvala se dalje vojska, pak je došla v vinsku goru:
„De si, de si, ma divojka, zakaj si me odurila?
Zakaj su ti prazni lagvi, zakaj trsje zarašćeno?“
Zahman zove vojskovođa, divojčica mrtva bila.
Šetuvala se dalje vojska, već je komaj rane nesla.
Spazila je bele grade, gde na bregu počivaju.
Vu gradu se pesma čula: „Hodi golub, hodi po me,
Već ti sinek jaše konja, već ti maše s kunom kapom,
Već ti cilja silnom puškom, već ti kresi svetlom sabljom,
Znal bi sinek vojnu vodit…“
Visoko su beli gradi, visoko se pesma čuje;
Nije mogla vojska gori, to joj rane nisu dale.
Nije mogel golub gori, to mu grehi nisu dali…

A young man had three young maidens as his sweethearts:
one in the flat fields, one in the steep vineyards, and one in the white town at the top of the hill.
The harvest was rich when the first maiden sent him a message to come and visit her, he told her to wait for him and save the crops when
he comes with an army of famished soldiers.
The second maiden sent him a message to come and visit her
and see how nicely the vineyards had prospered.
He told her to press the grapes and make wine for the time
when he comes to visit her with an army of thirsty soldiers.
The third maiden sent him a message to come and visit her and their new-born son.
His reply was: “Take care of him until the day he rides a horse, shoots a gun, swirls his sword, and I will come for him.”
The first two maidens heard the news and cried bitterly.
The maiden in the fields fell down to the ground never to rise again.
No more could she harvest the wheat and save it for soldiers.
The maiden in the vineyards cried her heart out.
She couldn’t pick grapes and make wine for the soldiers.
The maiden in the white town laughed, kissed her son, and sang:
“I will raise my son until he can ride a horse, shoot a gun, swirl his sword, and his father comes for him.”
The army was on their way home and came to the plains
wounded and famished.
“Where are you my young maiden?
Why have you locked yourself, why is there no grain?”
The young man leading the command called in vain,
the young girl was dead.
The army came slowly to the steep vineyards.
“Where are you my girl? Why are the barrels empty?”
The girl was silent for she was dead.
The army proceeded with great difficulty and with serious wounds.
The soldiers saw the white town on top of the hill and heard a voice singing:
“Where are you my darling? Your son can ride a horse now and he’s swirling his sword; he could easily lead an army.”
High is the white town; the song is heard from above.
The army couldn’t go there; its many wounds prevent it.
Her sweetheart couldn’t climb up there - his sins wouldn’t allow it.