U svetome gaju urlik vjetra stade / W świętym gaju - szum wiatru cichnie
kad se budna noć nečujno prikrade / gdy noc bezgłośnie - w świtu dal odpełza
Mladi srca bogovima na volju daju / młódź oddaje swe serca - woli starych Bogów
bez straha da se za taj čin pokaju / bez strachu, wstydu - musu i zwątpienia

Slave nebrojena djela poginulih / chwała czynów tych - co w boju wirze legli
sveta ognjišta i domove odavno minulih / ogniska domowe tych - co za wodę poszli
sinove koje majke krijesom oplakivaše / Synowie we łzach matek - w nocy czuwaniu
koji od oluje mačeva poginuše / Ci którzy padli - w gradzie mieczy

Slava crvenoj zori koja se rudi / sława zorzy porannej - co jaśnieć poczyna
Slava nadi što se budi! / sława nadziei - co rodzi się między nami
Glory to the shining hope that breeds the hearts anew / sława blaskowi nadziei - co serca odradza
Glory to our strength which blossoms from the seed of hope / sława naszej sile co z ziarna nadziei wykwita

Skrenu svima siva sjećanja / Zwracamy swe - szare wspomnienia
na kosti predaka prekrivenih mrakom zemlje / ku kościom przodków - w ciemności ziemi
pa do krvi što kapa sa izdajničkih ruku / ku krwi kapiącej - z dłoni zdrajców
da u bezdan sad mrtve junake povuku / co ściąga bohaterów - w otchłań

Uza sve strahote nada još uvijek umom skita / krom koszmarów - nadzieja nawiedza myśl
Zlatna i ponosita kao polja visokoga žita / złotem dumna niczym - żyta łan
Ispod gorja slave u svetome gaju / u stóp wzgórza chwały - w świętym gaju
mladi ognjem bogovima duše daju / młódź oddaje swe serca - woli Bogów

Slava crvenoj zori koja se rudi
Slava nadi što se budi!

Eng.

In a sacred grove, a howl of the wind stops
When the wake night sneaks soundlessly
The youth are giving their hearts to the will of the Gods
Without a fear of regretting the act

Glory of uncounted acts of the fallen
Holy hearths and the homes of those long gone
Sons that were mourned by mother’s beacon
Those that died by the storm of the swords

Glory to the red dawn which is breaking
Glory to a hope that is waking!

Everyone’s grey memories turned to
the bones of the ancestors, buried by the darkness of the soil
and to the blood that drops off the traitors’ hands
to drag the dead heroes into the abyss

Beside all of the horrors, a hope still wanders through the mind
Golden and proud as the wheat fields
Below the hill of the glory, in a scared grove
The youth are giving their souls to the Gods

Glory to the red dawn which is breaking
Glory to a hope that is waking!