A Toast

The vintage, friends, is over, And here sweet wine makes, once again, Sad eyes and hearts recover, Puts fire in every vein, Drowns dull care Everywhere And summons hope out of despair. To whom with acclamation And song shall we our first toast give? God save our land and nation And all Slovenes where'er they live, Who own the same Blood and name, And who one glorious Mother claim. Let thunder out of heaven Strike down and smite our wanton foe! Now, as it once had thriven, May our dear realm in freedom grow. Let fall the last Chains of the past Which bind us still and hold us fast! Let peace, glad conciliation, Come back to us throughout the land! Towards their destination Let Slavs henceforth go hand-in-hand! Thus again Will honour reign To justice pledged in our domain. To you, our pride past measure, Our girls! Your beauty, charm and grace! here surely is no treasure To equal maidens of such race. Sons you'll bear, Who will dare Defy our foe no matter where. Our hope now, our to-morrow - Our youth - we toast and toast with joy. No poisonous blight or sorrow Your love of homeland shall destroy. With us indeed You're called to heed Its summons in this hour of need. God's blessing on all nations, Who long and work for that bright day, When o'er earth's habitations No war, no strife shall hold its sway; Who long to see That all men free No more shall foes, but neighbours be. At last to our reunion - To us the toast! Let it resound, Since in this gay communion By thoughts of brotherhood we're bound. May joyful cheer Ne'er disappear From all good hearts now gathered here.