(Slovenian)

V vetru nocoj bomo spali, v vetru, ki divje se smeje,

morda nam bodo oblaki- rjuhe edine odeje.

Pala na roke, obleke, prva, druga bo kaplja, v noc cez

mocvirno poseko zakricala bo caplja.

Trsi spiral bo lica, mocil nam usta s krpo, noc nam bo

z mrzlim nozem rezala crnega kruha.

Svoje misli tehtali bomo kot prhle veje, dokler nam

soncna zarja zemlje, src ne ogreje.

V soncu bo hosta zapela, hosta in pesem vojna:

Brat moj, ne skrivaj lica, danes je vojna, VOJNA!

(English)

We're going to sleep in the wind tonight, in the

wind, who is laughing, wildly, and maybe the

clouds, these white sheets, will be our only

blankets.

On hands and clothes the first, then second

drops of rain will fall.

In the night through the swampy clearing a

heron will cry out.

The stronger one will wash our faces and

moisten our lips with a rag and the night with

a cold knife will cut us black bread.

We will weigh up our thoughts like rotten

branches, until the sunny dawn warms the

ground and our hearts.

The underwood will wake up in the sun and

war will begin its song again: Brother of mine,

Don't hide your face, today is war, it's WAR today!