Stih na asfaltu [English translation]

If I could once more walk down Ilica*...

So I could write bećarac in Cyrillic...

It's very unlikely that somebody could read that hieroglyph,

But, there is one person who would know I arrived...

Small white shoes would stop and translate

A verse on the road...

One day I'll dress up in a ballad...

In a chorus that's sometimes sung there...

And I will pass down Old Vlaška Street...

And move her hair like a breeze...

Before I hide behind the corner...

And I will, before the Mighty Ban, like a shadow of Peter Pan

Put my hat on...

Over the roof and the attic, dazed by the distance...

I'll leave a stem of the lavender between her dresses...

It's easy to get wrinkles... A very few things are still the same...

But eyes of my Šokica** still enchant me with the same glow...

A drawer full of beads is spilled on the sky...

And the autumn wind assumes the smell of the Bosut River...

At first, I am all right, but as soon as I drink a few spritzers,

From far away arrives an easy prime...

Followed by the third of the dead leaves from one oak near Belišće,

Really shy...

Why did I, to hell, gave her the white wild rose...

Why did I took her that circle on my bicycle...

It's easy to get wrinkles... A very few things are still the same...

But eyes of my Šokica still enchant me with the same glow...

• Artist:Đorđe Balašević