Suncokret i mak
The Sunflower and the Poppy
Na vrhu mu žuto tjeme,u glavi mu silno sjeme,klonu glava, teška, žuta,pade sjeme pokraj puta.Misli tužno suncokret:oh, što nisam crven cvijet?
At the top, his yellow crest,in his head, the seeds close-pressed;heavy, yellow, droops his head,by the roadside seed is shed.Sadly the sunflower sighs:"Why am I not red?" he cries.
Procvjetao divlji maku korovu pokraj puta.Crveni se sav od stida:biti malen nije sreća,to me stvarno jako smeta.Eh, da mi je glava veća,barem k'o u suncokreta!
Blooming wild, a poppy grewin the weeds beside the road.He is blushing red with shame:"Being small's no joy at all,that's what really gets me down;oh, if my head weren't so small,like the sunflower's golden crown!"