Četiri ure je mati hodila
pedest miljari korati je učinila natašte.
Tako je došla priko brigi i drag
h meni u grad
i donila glas
da je koza krepala.
Doma leži starica baba,
i mala sestra je bona.
Hiža priz žita, prez muke, prez šolda
i krepana koza.
Jopet miljari koraki
Svaki je korak pun škrbi.
Ma kako se moru tolike duše prihraniti
od plaće jenega diteta u gradu.
Tri dane nis hrane pokusija
tri noći za kozon san plaka
i dela u ognju
četrnajst ur na dan.
Ma daleki cesar austrijski
i veliki car od Jermanije
nisu ni slutiti mogli
ča misli jedan mali čovik,
ki cilu božju noć proplače za kozon.
The Goat
Four hours my mother walked,
fifty thousand steps she made fasting.
Over hills and valley,
to me in town,
and tell me that,
the goat had died.
At home my old grandmother,
a small, sick sister,
and a house without wheat, flour, money,
and a dead goat.
Another thousand steps,
each step full of care,
how can so many be fed
from the pay of just one child in town?
Three days I did not eat,
tree nights cried for the goat,
and worked in the furnace,
fourteen hours a day.
Not the far off Austrian Emperor.
Not the great German Emperor.
can even begin imagining,
the thoughts of a small man
crying all night for a dead goat.
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