Na Kordunu grob do groba
In Kordun, Grave to Grave

Original version

Serbocroatian English
Na Kordunu grob do groba,
Traži majka sina svoga.
Našla ga je, na grob klekla
I ovako sinu rekla:
»O moj sine, rano moja,
Tu mi leži mladost tvoja.
O moj sine, tugo moja,
Je l’ ti teška zemlja tvoja?«
»Teža mi je suza tvoja
Nego crna zemlja moja.
Kaži, majko, našem rodu
Da sam pao za slobodu.
U borbu sam, majko, pao,
Za slobodu život dao.
Zato ’ajde kaži rodu
Da se bori za slobodu.«		 In Kordun,

A region of central Croatia.

grave to grave,
A mother went searching for her son.
She found him, knelt on his grave,
And spoke like this to her son:
»O my son, my wound,
There lies your youth for me.
O my son, my sorrow,
Is your earth heavy to bear?«

»May his/her/your earth be light« is a traditional South Slavic expression for »Rest in peace«.


»Your tears are heavier to me
Than my black earth.
Mother, tell our kin
That I fell for freedom.
In battle, mother, I fell,
For freedom gave my life.
Therefore go tell our kin
That they are fighting for freedom.«

Later version

Serbocroatian English
Na Kordunu grob do groba,
Traži majka sina svoga.
Našla ga je, na grob klekla,
I ovako sinu rekla:
»O moj sine, radost moja,
gdje počiva mladost tvoja?«
Otac plače, majka cvili,
Otvori se grobe mili.
Grobak se je otvorio,
Sin je majci govorio:
»Nemoj plakat’ majko stara,
Pusti sina da odmara.
Teža mi je tvoje plači
Nego bombi i bacači.
Teža mi je suza tvoja
Nego crna zemlja moja.
Ajde majko domu svome,
Ne dolazi grobu mome.
Idi kući, kaži rodu
Da sam pao za slobodu.
Za slobodu i za pravo
Svoj sam mladi život dao.
Idi majko, kaži rodu
Da se bori za slobodu.«		 In Kordun, grave to grave,
A mother went searching for her son.
She found him, knelt on his grave,
And spoke like this to her son:
»O my son, my joy,
Where does your youth rest?«
The father wept, the mother whimpered,
The dear grave opened up.
The grave opened up to her;
The son spoke to his mother:
»Don’t cry, old mother,
Let your son rest.
Your cries are harder for me to bear
Than bombs and rocket-launchers.
Your tears are heavier to me
Than my black earth.
Go on, mother, to your home,
Don’t come to my grave.
Go home, tell our kin
That I fell for freedom.
For freedom and for right
I gave my young life.
Go, mother, tell our kin
That they are fighting for freedom.«