The wind whistles on all sides,
Scrapes the wood, breaks the branches!
With all the force of its flight
Sweeping across, rushing over the world.
Whistling a song – to the horizon!
About the courageous fighter who fights
For his whole life
For an idea, for his principles.
May this hope always follow him:
That, when death overcomes him,
New fighters will appear
Take up his flag,
Whistling a song, whistling to all
the wicked and to the tyrants!
A song of anger, a song that rages
A song that brings fear,
A song of pity, a song of poverty,
Let them hear it, let them grow pale!
Scrapes the wood, breaks the branches!
With all the force of its flight
Sweeping across, rushing over the world.
Whistling a song – to the horizon!
About the courageous fighter who fights
For his whole life
For an idea, for his principles.
May this hope always follow him:
That, when death overcomes him,
New fighters will appear
Take up his flag,
Whistling a song, whistling to all
the wicked and to the tyrants!
A song of anger, a song that rages
A song that brings fear,
A song of pity, a song of poverty,
Let them hear it, let them grow pale!
Kosta Abrašević (1879–1898)
