Definitions

Onamo, 'namo!

Onamo, 'namo!

Onamo, 'namo (Serbian: Онамо, 'намо; in English: There, over there) also known as the Serbian Marseillaise (Српска марсељеза) was a popular anthem in Montenegro in the late 19th to early 20th century. The state anthem of Montenegro at the time was To Our Beautiful Montenegro, while the education anthem was the Hymn to Saint Sava.

The music was composed by Davorin Jenko or Franjo Vimer, partly drawing upon a song of Garibaldi's fighters, Si scopron le tombe, Si levano i morti, with words written by Prince Nikola I of Montenegro. Having words that were considered too inflammatory, it could not be used as an official anthem.

In 1992 the government of Montenegro considered using it as the official anthem, but decided against it. In 2003 it was nominated to be the official anthem of Serbia and Montenegro. There are some who believe that it should become the anthem of Montenegro in the future.

A variation of the song was created by the Bosnian Serbs in the beginning of the 20th century known as "Here, o'er Here!" (Ovamo, 'vamo!; Овамо, 'вамо!) dedicated to calling Montenegro and Serbia to free Bosnia and Herzegovina from Ottoman & Habsburg dominance.

Onamo, 'namo! is the anthem of the People's Party of Montenegro.

Lyrics

in Serbian Cyrillic: in Serbian Latin: in English:
Онамо, 'намо... за брда она,
говоре да је разорен двор
мојега цара; онамо веле,
био је негда јуначки збор.

Онамо, 'намо... да виђу Призрен!
Та то је моје - дома ћу доћ'!
Старина мила тамо ме зове,
ту морам једном оружан поћ'.

Онамо, 'намо... са развалина
дворова царских врагу ћу рећ':
"С огњишта милог бјежи ми, куго,
зајам ти морам враћати већ'!"

Онамо, 'намо... за брда она
казују да је зелени гај
под ким се дижу Дечани свети:
молитва у њих присваја рај.

Онамо, 'намо... за брда она,
ђе небо плаво савија свод;
на српска поља, на поља бојна,
онамо, браћо, спремајмо ход!

Онамо, 'намо... за брда она
погажен коњ'ма кликује Југ:
"У помоћ, ђецо, у помоћ, синци,
светит' ме старца - свет вам је дуг!"

Онамо, 'намо... сабљи за стара
његова ребра да тупим рез
по турским ребрим'; да б'једној раји
њом истом с руку рес'јецам вез!

Онамо, 'намо... за брда она
Милошев, кажу, пребива гроб!
Онамо покој добићу души,
кад Србин више не буде роб.

Onamo, 'namo... za brda ona,
govore da je razoren dvor
mojega cara; onamo vele,
bio je negda junački zbor.

Onamo, 'namo... da viđu Prizren!
Ta to je moje - doma ću doć'!
Starina mila tamo me zove,
tu moram jednom oružan poć'.

Onamo, 'namo... sa razvalina
dvorova carskih vragu ću reć'!
"S ognjišta milog bježi mi, kugo,
zajam ti moram vraćati već'!"

Onamo, 'namo... za brda ona
kazuju da je zeleni gaj
pod kim se dižu Dečani sveti:
molitva u njih prisvaja raj.

Onamo, 'namo... za brda ona
đe nebo plavo savija svod;
na srpska polja, na polja bojna
onamo, braćo, spremajmo hod!

Onamo, 'namo... za brda ona
pogažen konj'ma klikuje Jug:
"U pomoć, đeco, u pomoć, sinci,
svetit' me starca, svet vam je dug!

Onamo, 'namo... sablji za stara
njegova rebra da tupim rez
po turskim rebrim'; da b'jednoj raji
njom istom s ruku res'jecam bez!

Onamo, 'namo... za brda ona
Milošev, kažu, prebiva grob!
Onamo pokoj dobiću duši,
kad Srbin više ne bude rob.

There, over there... beyond those hills,(*)
Ruined lies, they say, my
Emperor's palace; there, they say,
Once, heroes had gathered.

There, over there... I see Prizren!
It is all mine – home I shall come!
Beloved antiquity calls me there,
Armed I must come there one day.

There over there... from on top of the ruins
Of Emperors' palaces to the devil I will say:
"Flee from my beloved home you plague,
Already your loan I must repay!"

There, over there... beyond those hills,
Lies a green grove, they say,
Under which rises up Holy Dečani:
A prayer said within Paradise claims.

There, over there... beyond those hills,
Where sky of blue bends down her arch;
On to Serb fields, on to battle fields,
There, brothers, prepare to march!

There, over there... beyond those hills,(†)
Trampled by horses' hooves cries out Jug:
"Come help me, children, come help me, sons,
Avenge the old man - sacred is your task!"

There, over there... for the ribs of the old man,(†)
I'll dull my sabre's edge on
The ribs of the Turks; and cut the ties
From the wrists of the wretched masses!

There, over there... beyond those hills,
Lies there, they say, Miloš's grave!
There my soul eternal peace shall gain,
When the Serb is no more a slave.

Footnotes

  • * This verse is used as a refrain after every verse when performed.
  • † These verses are considered antiquated and are often left out in contemporary renditions of the song.

Sources

References

External links

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