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Uz maršala Tita, junačkoga sina
nas neće ni pakao smest'.
Mi dižemo čelo, mi kročimo smjelo
i čvrsto stiskamo pest.
Rod prastari svi smo, a Goti mi nismo,
Slavenstva smo drevnoga čest.
Ko drukčije kaže, kleveće i laže,
Našu će osjetit' pest.
Sve prste na ruci u jadu i muci
Partizanska stvorila je svijest.
Pa sad kad i treba, do Sunca do neba
Visoko mi dižemo pest.
==============================
With Marshall Tito, the heroic son
not even Hell shall stop us.
We raise our foreheads, we walk boldly
and clench our fists hard.
Of an ancient kindred we are, but Goths we are not
Part of ancient Slavdom are we.
Whoever says otherwise slanders and lies,
will feel our fist.
All the fingers upon our hands, through misery and suffering
The Partisans awareness has created.
And now when we should, to the sun, to the sky,
We raise our fists high.

Uz Maršala Tita

"Ceddin Deden"

Yugoslav Partisan Song - Po Sumama I gorama

المجد لروسيا (Glory to Russia)  Syrian ProRussian War Song _Lyrics  Translation_.m4a

Lyrics: On the tongue of Alparslan in Manzikert
In the hands of Ulubatlı on the walls
In the year of Gallipoli Jihad
Floor is crimson, crescent-star is white
That blessed flag, is this flag
Reared us up in the Caucasus
Haven is oasis in Yemen deserts
Never fell from flagpoles again
Floor is crimson, crescent-star is white
That blessed flag, is this flag
Epics were written against tyrants
Prayer of oppressed covered the sky
Independence March was written for the sake of it
Floor is crimson, crescent-star is white
That blessed flag, is this flag
Faithful guard in the prophet tomb
Custodians were gaining speed from the flag
We remind to the forgetter again
Floor is crimson, crescent-star is white
That blessed flag, is this flag

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Bosanska Artiljerija