Miholjsko leto [English translation]

After half past noon she had

a piano lesson

and then she was measuring the town with her step

and by the way she was looking at the shopwindows

excuse me! her reflection in them

in her hair still, like a garland,

that cadence in mall,

little spell that, right than,

along the caffe Kibic, slowly,

he came around, like a tide

Secrets are here so

that someone can sense them

there is a word that counts (has value)

only when it isn't said

the tea is poured to God

it's shining everywhere

One sycamore will stay gold

She is, through the laugh, tightly

squeezing her music notebook

he is not trembling (shivering),

it's just that withered leaves,

blissfully Indian (st. Mihael's) summer

one and secred for them.

And he was carrying aloud

His almost eighteen (years),

And more often they refer to him with respect

Bass is banging in his chest

It's beating on bronze wires,

In his pocket is lucky glass stone

Like that - coin and well (fountain)

Little spell so that everyone disappear

And she popped in like a biter (hooligan,blackleg)

And disperse her hair over his face

Secrets are here so

that someone can sense them

there is a word that counts (has value)

only when it isn't said

the tea is poured to God

it's shining everywhere

One sycamore will stay gold

She is, through the laugh, tightly

squeezing her music notebook

he is not trembling (shivering),

it's just that withered leaves,

blissfully Indian (st. Mihael's) summer

one and secred for them.

Like a mediocre tramp,

A little grayish and oldish

at the corner, I stopped alone,

not so good october,

and thoughts in Russian mood,

and then I realized, by suprise,

that I still love you, like I used to do

the time has only inflamed the fire

An Indian (st. Mihale's) summer in me,

That spiteful Sun before the winter

• Artist:Đorđe Balašević
• Album:Naposletku...