Za Prastova

The city for conlangs

Za Prastova is one of the best known songs in Romanslav culture, and also the title of the only (to date) learning course of the language for foreigners. It was written directly for the language and, acording to its fictitious timeline, originally composed in the 1930s, during the regime of Mikale Smelnik, for the 4th Intercontinental Games of Friendship between Peoples, held in the capital city of Volkarina, Prastova. The song which praises the city became so well-known that, even after the fall of the regime, it is still sung by new generations.

[edit] Original lyrics

“Za Prastova!”
(N. Aleksandrovič)

Juz ajut za Pariš
Juz ajut za Munix
Anko ajut za gigancka Moskova
Ošte ajut do za Rum
Anko ajut za Štokolm
I tak plosti avtri dakdova

A ne xot in Berlina
A ne xot in Pekina
A nir ošte daleka Lisbova
Od neplac ne trovut
Nir mitast ke vedut
In ma mila lubacka Prastova

Za Prastova, za Prastova
Ungde pople zna felicitast
Za Prastova, za Prastova
Ungde tuti vivic in libertast

Na antikva Aþina
Xa nemaj ke rovina
I ničo tre bon in Genova
Diču sam od Torina
A egval od Medina
I kvasi oblivu Varšova

Turna Londer maršut
In Flovrenc baladut
Xut šoveti momenti in Belgrad
A nir Praxa logrut
Nir in Stambule putut
Po sintit eto ke sintu in mo grad

Za Prastova, za Prastova
Ungde pople zna felicitast
Za Prastova, za Prastova
Ungde tuti vivic in libertast

[edit] English translation

“To Prastova!”
(N. Aleksandrowitch)

I’ve already gone to Paris
I’ve already gone to Munich
I’ve gone also to giant Moscow
I’ve gone even to Rome
I’ve gone also to Stockholm
And a dozen others even so

But it was not in Berlin
But it was not in Peking
Nor even in faraway Lisbon
From nowhere I found
Not even half what I saw
In my dear beloved Prastova

To Prastova, to Prastova
Where people know happiness
To Prastova, to Prastova
Where everyone lives in freedom

In ancient Athens
There's nothing more than ruins
And nothing too good in Genoa
I say the same about Turin
But equal about Medina
And I almost forget Warsaw

Around London I walked
In Florence I strolled
I had nice moments in Belgrade
But nor in Prague I got
Nor in Istanbul I could
To feel this that I feel in my city

To Prastova, to Prastova
Where people know happiness
To Prastova, to Prastova
Where everyone lives in freedom