Grm

Munjom opaljen grm na surom proplanku stoji, Kô crn i mračan div. I guste travice splet Gordi mu uvija stas – i gorski nestašni lahor Leluja šareni cvet. I zima dođe već, i svojom studenom rukom Pokida nakit sav i goru obnaži svu, Al’ mnoga zima još sa hladnim vetrom će doći, A on će biti tu.

Grm

The Shrub

A thunder stricken shrub on a grey hill it rests,

Like a dark almighty giant. And grassy ribbon dense,

Twists around his shape. And playful mountain breeze

Sways the bright flowers and trees.

Then winter comes along, and with its frosty arm

Tears all the charms and strips the mountain bare

But many more winters with a cold wind will come

And he will still be there.

(Prevela na engleski: Betina Rašić)