Umirovljenički jadi

My pension, O my pension, hard-earned pay,in my old age from me now snatched away.I dream the blessings of my work would come;the fifteenth brings a pittance, a mere crumb.The old folk voted this Government in,so better living standards might begin.I say it publicly, so all may hear:a promise only makes the foolish cheer.To whom should I complain, to whom lament?In eight days' time my pension is all spent.With pride I set off, bills stacked in a pile,to play the part of a tycoon a while.I slowly go from one door to the next,and at the end I'm feverish and vexed.The prices rise, they jump up every day;I've got to live: O God, but in what way?From every side the bills weigh down on me:I pay for water, and the town land fee.Then to the local council I must callto pay the service charges, big and small;then phone and TV bills: I pay them all,and give a friend his loan back at his call.Then top-up health insurance must be paid,and less and less is left of what I've made.I pay for power, for the rubbish haul:oh, if my pension only weren't so small!The gas works sends a warning note my way;believe me, this can't go on another day.And then my membership fees, every one,and to the Church its church dues, when that's done.And when I've paid off Croatian Waters too,and my last kuna bids my purse adieu.I pay it all, I don't blame anyone,but tell me, what am I to live upon?The prices rise: the Government won't care,and, God knows, nor for all the woes we bear.Oh, sorrow mine! Each fights for his own share;for us old folk the law just isn't there.To God what's God's; the devil wants his own,and all my pension's gone, down to the bone.And when I see what's left inside my till,there's just enough, old mate, for rakija still,to drink it down and ease my grief a bit,and wait for the next pittance after it.