Sobot on the Podhale

From the sky-high suns,

Sparks snort thousands,

I'll ask the secret to tell me,

Obtaining the power of witchcraft...

So tell me the sparks,

Before you go out forever,

That 1 secret special,

How do you become a powerful sorcerer?

- I'm sorry. We will never betray this mystery,

No substance how early he gets,

To have the power of witchcraft,

No 1 truly is worthy,

For though they give a feeling of power,

They're hiding behind them,

Under the guise of the dreams of the innermost,

They snort venom to the human soul...

The flash of a falling star,

He pierced the night sky of darkness,

So tell me the sanctimonious bugs,

Where treasures are hidden in the Podhale,

Or in the green valleys,

Guarded by the end of the following years,

In the large caves of the pits,

In time forgotten by the world?

- I'm sorry. We will never betray this mystery,

So that they could inactive dream about them,

Boys with old legends of adoration,

When the sleep of the dreamers sleeps,

To awaken a dreamy imagination,

When the darkness covers the world,

She painted their hiding places at night,

Sleeping young men of pure heart...

My ears come from afar,

The mountain stream is silent,

So tell me the buzzing pines,

Where the robbers erstwhile hid their spoils...

Or in the vaults of the finest,

By the power of secret spells they sealed them forever,

Did they scatter their ducats in the bushes,

What's the breath moving from the hajduks?

- I'm sorry. We will never betray this mystery,

For actual treasures,

You must search in the heart of your depth,

In the deepest feelings of secrecy...

For there and only there,

The real treasure is hidden,

As the castle never guarded,

As no robber's eye has always seen...

- I'm sorry. A poem inspired by the song ,,V my zahradôčke" performed by the squad KOLLÁROVCI.