OH RANCHES IN THE NORTH OF BÁCSKA
[Hej salaši na sjeveru Bačke]

Oh, ranches, in the North of Bácska,
The Bunjevac songs are in you,
And the tambura is being played so beautifully,
As if the chords were chosen by a couple of nightingales.
And the tambura is being played so beautifully,
As if the chords were chosen by a couple of nightingales.

Neither are wedding guests anywhere
Like when the old man prepares his daughter for the wedding.
There is a white veil waving on the bride
Like when in winter the ranch is clad in snow.
There is a white veil waving on the bride
Like when in winter the ranch is clad in snow.

Oh, Bunjevacs, in the North of Bácska,
Take care of Bunjevac songs.
Sing them for many more years,
Your tribe is small but fine.
Sing them for many more years,
Your tribe is small but fine.

And revel, but carefully.
You should be admired and seen by everybody.
And the black horses may tear their traces
When the lads set off for Christmas plays.
And the black horses may tear their traces
When the lads set off for Christmas plays.