There, over there... beyond those hills,
Ruined lies, they say, my
Emperor's palace; there, they say,
Once, heroes had gathered.
There, over there... I see Prizren!
It is all mine – home I shall come!
Beloved antiquity calls me there,
Armed I must come there one day.
There over there... from on top of the ruins
Of Emperors' palaces to the devil I will say:
"Flee from my beloved home you plague,
Already your loan I must repay!"
There, over there... beyond those hills,
Lies a green grove, they say,
Under which rises up Holy Dečani:
A prayer said within Paradise claims.
There, over there... beyond those hills,
Where sky of blue bends down her arch;
On to Serb fields, on to battle fields,
There, brothers, prepare to march!
There, over there... beyond those hills,
Trampled by horses' hooves cries out Jug:
"Come help me, children, come help me, sons,
Avenge the old man - sacred is your task!"
There, over there... for the ribs of the old man,
I'll dull my sabre's edge on
The ribs of the Turks; and cut the ties
From the wrists of the wretched masses!
There, over there... beyond those hills,
Lies there, they say, Miloš's grave!
There my soul eternal peace shall gain,
When the Serb is no more a slave.
