Kosovo is landlocked and borders Central Serbia north and eastward, the Republic of Macedonia to the south, Albania to the west and Montenegro to the northwest (the latter three recognise it as independent). The largest city and the capital of Kosovo is Pristina (alternatively spelled Prishtina or Priština (), while other cities include Peć (Albanian: Peja), Prizren, Đakovica Albanian: Gjakova), and Kosovska Mitrovica (Albanian: Mitrovica).
Music has always been part of the Albanian and Serbian cultures in Kosovo. In Kosovo, along with modern music, folk music is the most popular. There are many folk singers and ensembles. Serbian music from Kosovo presents a mixture of traditional music, which is part of the wider Balkan tradition, with its own distinctive sound, and various Western and Turkish influences.
ANI MORE NUSE
Ani more nuse, ani qaf-gastare,
Ani a do ruz-e, ani a do par-e?
As nuk dua ruz-e, as nuk dua par-e,
Por e dua dja-djalin, more me cigare.
Ani me cigare, ani me kuti-e
E me këpucet të zeza, faqe si zotni-e,
Ani more nuse, moj vetull-gjilpan-e,
Ani dil e shif e moj djal-e. moj xhan-e.
Oh young bride with a throat fine as glass,
Do you want beads, do you want gold coins?
I don’t want beads, I don’t want gold coins,
I want a young man with a cigarette.
With a cigarette, with a cigarette box,
And with black dress shoes, like a gentleman.
Oh bride with brows slender as needles,
Come see your young man, oh dearest.
MOJ HATIXHE
Moj Hatixhe, moj n’shami t’kuqe,
Ti ngjyn nona majo flokt a kuqe. (2X)
Flokt e kuqe ti shitoft zana,
A s’po t’dhimen o baba e nona? (2X)
Baba, nona, du vllaznija,
Shkoj te burri o m’rrok pleqnija. (2X)
Shoj te burri, m’rrok pleqnija,
Për kanaci m’rrokin o fmija (2X)
Për kanaci o m’rrokin o fmija,
Lypin o buken o argashtija. (2X)
Lypin o buken o argashtija,
Mall i kom o tezhat e mira. (2X)
My Hatixhe with the red scarf,
Your mother will colour your hair with henna.
Your hair will be red, charmed by spirits.
Doesn’t it pain you leaving your mother and father?
Mother, father, two brothers,
I go to my husband and old age comes to me.
And the children hang by my apron.
And the workers ask for bread.
How I long to be a bride again.