My childhood’s endless, friendly skies above me,
Slovene’s the language of the stream beside me,
in Lime trees softly whisper songs around me,
The springtime once again surrounds me.
The day goes blind in a shining crimson sunset,
The pale blue wave of TRIGLAV rides above it.
All nature rests, the night draws silent curtains
But in the air the poet’s words are stirring:
In solitude from my eye a tear is flowing,
Therefore the songs composed to sing your honour
Come not from places where the sun is glowing.
God knows uncounted wonders of creation
In every corner of the world you see.
Graced by the sunlight pouring down in freedom
Your timeless beauty sings to me.
Whereever I am I cannot but remember
These melancholy songs of ours,
The sparkling lakes, the crystal streams,
in poet’s verses that are prayers for all of us.
They’re not from places where the sun is glowing,
Where that soft in tender eye of yours is watching,
Forgetfulness I drink, to all the painful knowing.
In solitude from my eye a tear is flowing,
Therefore the songs composed to sing your honour
Come not from places where the sun is glowing.
