Es la mujer del hombre lo más bueno,
y locura decir que lo más malo,
su vida suele ser y su regalo,
su muerte suele ser y su veneno.

Cielo a los ojos cándido y sereno,
que muchas veces al infierno igualo,
por raro al mundo su valor señalo
por falso al hombre su rigor condeno.

Ella nos da su sangre, ella nos cría,
no ha hecho el cielo cosa más ingrata;
es un ángel, y a veces una arpía.

Quiere, aborrece, trata bien, maltrata,
y es la mujer, al fin, como sangría,
que a veces da salud y a veces mata.

Zena je dobro najvece u ljudi,
(ludost je reci da to nije tako)
ona nam daje zivot, dobro svako,
ona nam cesto smrt i otrov nudi.

Mirno se nebo u oku joj budi,
a mnogo puta paklu je jednako;
svijet vrijednost njenu uocava lako,
a covjek pati od podle joj cudi.

Ona krv daje, zivot nam podari,
i Bog ne stvori od nje ludje stvari:
sad andjeo je, sad gora od zmije.

Voli pa mrzi, miluje pa mrvi,
i zena, to je ko pustanje krvi
sto katkad spasi, a katkad ubije.

What's best for man is woman, and it's unwise
to say that she's what's worst for him as well.
His very life she comes to be, his prize;
the death of him she'll be, his poison-pill.

Serene and pure, a heaven to the eyes,
who many times is equal to a hell;
I praise her marvelous courage to the skies;
to damn her fickle ruthlessness, I yell.

She gives her blood for us, she gives her breast,
and nothing heaven made gives more malaise;
she's angel sometimes, harpy all the rest.

She loves, she loathes, she favors and she flays,
and letting blood's what sums her up the best:
it sometimes saves your life, and sometimes slays.

Zena ( Ljudske rime )  - Es la mujer ( Rimas humanas CXCI ) -  Woman ( Human Rhymes CXCI )