Текст и перевод песни Tomislav Ivcic - Tamo Gdje Sam Rođen

Tamo Gdje Sam Rođen

Tamo gdje sam rođen vole ljude
Tamo se dobra djeca jutrom bude
Tamo ih brižne majke uvijek uče
Na ljubav i mir

Tamo gdje moje misli sada plove
Drugi žive moje snove
A u dvorištu mome
Sada druga djeca igraju

Tamo gdje bijela jedra morem plove
U večeri plave kad stara zvona zvone
Tamo gdje ljudi nedjeljom na misu
Uvijek odlaze

Tamo se crven bijeli plavi vije
Tamo se pjesme pjevaju k'o prije
A moja braća uvijek iste
Snove snivaju

Sad one stare pjesme i zvuci mandolina
U davne dane vraćaju
A moja pjesnička duša piše dragu pjesmu
Za moju domovinu, domovinu

Tamo gdje bijela jedra morem plove
U večeri plave kad stara zvona zvone
Tamo gdje ljudi nedjeljom na misu
Uvijek odlaze

Tamo se crven bijeli plavi vije
Tamo se pjesme pjevaju k'o prije
Na djedovini mojoj
Gdje moji stari snivaju

Sad one stare pjesme i zvuci mandolina
U davne dane vraćaju
A moja pjesnička duša piše dragu pjesmu
Za moju domovinu, domovinu

Tamo gdje bijela jedra morem plove
U večeri plave kad stara zvona zvone
Tamo gdje ljudi nedjeljom na misu
Uvijek odlaze

Tamo se crven bijeli plavi vije
Tamo se pjesme pjevaju k'o prije
A moja dobra majka i moja braća
Još me čekaju

A moja dobra majka i moja braća
Još me čekaju

Where I Was Born

Where I was born, people love people
There the good children wake up in the morning
There their caring mothers always teach them
About love and peace

Where my thoughts now sail
Others live my dreams
And in my yard
Other children play now

Where white sails sail the sea
In the blue evenings when the old bells ring
Where people go to mass on Sundays
They always go

There the red white and blue fly
There the songs are sung as before
And my brothers always the same
Dream the same dreams

Now those old songs and sounds of the mandolin
Take me back to distant days
And my poetic soul writes a dear song
For my homeland, my homeland

Where white sails sail the sea
In the blue evenings when the old bells ring
Where people go to mass on Sundays
They always go

There the red white and blue fly
There the songs are sung as before
In my ancestral home
Where my ancestors dream

Now those old songs and sounds of the mandolin
Take me back to distant days
And my poetic soul writes a dear song
For my homeland, my homeland

Where white sails sail the sea
In the blue evenings when the old bells ring
Where people go to mass on Sundays
They always go

There the red white and blue fly
There the songs are sung as before
And my good mother and my brothers
Still await me

And my good mother and my brothers
Still await me