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Moj Podol (My Podol)

Nigdre tako lepo arija ne vonja kako ovdeka do zemji i senca na momu skoju do kamika i skuj kede su banestri pelna brenca.
Nowhere does the air smell as sweet of the earth and sun as here, on my rocky island, where broom plants flourish.

Kada gromaci kozji vrisk zacevjeni a kus i pelin za tebe procvete pogjedaj, povonjaj, serce je pelno gust do zemji va vlasi se plete.
When a lively goat calls out on a dry stone wall and the sage and absynthe blossom for you, observe and inhale, your heart is fulfilled. The taste of the earth will plait your hair.

Drenjuli se same va ruki hitaju tikaj murvu i zemi kantariol do bersnjana za se udelaj krunu usnasi va serce spomen na Podol.
Cornel cherries fall into your hands. Pick the mulberry, gather the thyme, and from the ivy weave a wreath. Seal in your heart a secret memory of Podol.