FARMER’S LULLABY

(translated by Brigitte Orešnik)

Hush-a-bye my darling, sleep,

we are all so tired now,

all day long we’ve sheared the sheep.

Sun is hidden in the wool,

it will serve for knits to wear

when the days turn dark and cool.

Hush-a-bye, sleep, my boy,

outside mist is spinning flax,

and busy farmer wind is blowing

straw together for the cow.

Before we have the winter here

we must harvest beets and cabbage.

The buckwheat white frost did not spare,

for the aftermath the floods were there,

and our roof is leaking.

Do you hear the sound of the ax

cutting trees down in the woodlands?

The stove has no heart, dear,

if you can’t keep it going

it’s cold like a stone, and winter in near.

Hush-a-bye, sleep, my boy,

all of us are tired now.

In their dreams the ox and cow

chew their cud on the stable floor.

The fire is out and we’ve bolted the door,

the clock is murmuring, turning its hands,

in the kitchen the fading light

is weary of burning night after night.

Life is not easy,

sleep, my boy.