(English translation below)

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Krst


Kot plaz, ki zaleti se v gozd v dolini,
za Živo in bogove nad oblaki,
brez misli v boj drve pogani,
a padajo po tleh od križev klani.

Le nekaj mladih hrastov med Sloveni,
ki vero vpili so iz zemlje naše,
njih srdu se umikajo kristjani,
saj sekajo jih ti boginji vdani.


Slovenec že mori Slovenca, brata,
šest mes'cev moči tla krvava reka.
Slovenec že mori Slovenca, brata,
kako strašna slepota je človeka!


Številnost tujim tokrat ne pomaga,
ker grad slovenski svoje nemo varva,
a šibkost lakote nepremagljive
prevesi tehtnico v prid sovraga.

Vodja tropa tega jim ne skriva,
da zmagala jih sreča bo kriva,
ne brani jim predaje in življenja,
če kdo ga ljubi bolj kot vonj svobode.

Hrabrost ne da nobenemu oditi,
Perun nakloni zvestim svoje strele
in črno noč pretresa grom globok,
da jim pobeg v gozdove je mogoč.

Orožje mrzlo je sopotnik v temi,
a komaj popustijo vrat zapahe,
se vname boj, ne boj, mesarsko klanje!
Sovrag tam s celo četo jih objame!

Tako objel sovražnik je junake,
a skale bok ne ukloni se poplavi.
Drobi se kamen, vode tok vrtinči,
nobeden ne umiri se, ne neha tolči.

Ko zora zdaj obsije mrtvih trope,
kot v času žetve zažare poljane.
Ni zlat'ga sija rosnih žitnih klasov,
obžarja rdeče, boja trudne snope.




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The Baptism


As avalanche that crushes the trees and rocks,
for Živa and the gods on mountain tops,
without thought the heathens march to war,
though slain by Christian cross they all fall.

Very few young oaks among Slovenes,
who soaked their faith from this soil's old beliefs,
their rage is feared by Christian enemies,
they're killing in the name of Živa's might and bliss.


Slovene is murdering his Slovene brother,
for six long months the earth with blood is blighted.
How frightful is mankind, and how dim-sighted!


The rivals' numbers are now of no help,
'cause Slovenes' castle guards them safe in silence,
though weakness of unbearable hunger
now shifts the scales to favour the Christians.

Leader of this pack can hide no longer
this fate of doom that lies upon them.
He blames not those who would rather leave,
though a life of shame they will surely live.

Prowess lets no one leave their brethren,
Perun, the mighty, lends the loyal ones his lightning,
the blackest night is shaken by rumbling thunder,
so our heroes may escape the castle safely.

Cold weapon is the sole companion in the dark,
though soon as the gate's bolts finally yield to foes,
there ignites a fight - not fight! ... A butcher's slaughter!
Enemy attacks their troops with all his force!

And so the enemy captured our heroes,
but rock will never yield to floods which there flow.
The stone is crumbling, the water's swirling,
none willing to bow down, they won't stop pounding.

When dawn throws light upon the dead unburied,
as though it's harvest time, plains glow in sunlight.
There is no golden flare of dewy wheat ears,
only the blood red, tired, heavy sheaves.