History,
    is more about the time it was written,
    than the time it was written abart.

O Macedoniо, sister of Mysia and Thrace, why do you curse,
why do you so cruelly trample your children, to whom do you condemn them?
You are chasing your original Bulgarian blood, which way are you going?
Weep for the suffering of generations, don't deny it.
Don't hide your sorry past, don't hide it.

Deny your will to purify your consciousness.
Put out the fire of discord, shelter the spirits of our common history.
The past is the fuel of the future, the air of your breath.
Honor your heroes, don't divide the people and don't sow agony.
We know of your age-old torments, we hear your present sobs.

Macedonio, dear sister, you burn the memory of your children.
You drive your Bulgarian children out of the oven of your father's fire, you pour out duplicity. Why do you **** your history, why do you pour out wrong anger?
Your ancestors, the forgotten heroes, have left a memory of greatness.
Do you remember the ages bathed in masculine power and eternal glory?

Your children, an integral part of a long-suffering family, seek protection.
Have you forgotten that blood does not mix with water, and that the old Bulgarian thrones, with which fate has gifted you, rise near Vardar.
Know that a tree without its roots under the firmament perishes, and you yourself are too proud, without turning to your sisters you depress.

Macedonia, didn't your rebels lay down their bones for freedom?
Do not bury your Bulgarian memory, do not abuse your dear children with malice.
Don't forget your real enemy, and he is self-serving and conquers you.
Let your children grow in your springs, and when they grow up to rise up, with heroic strength to protect you from your evil ones.

People, do not stop seeking and asserting your true nature.
Remember the work of your ancestors, fight for their souls to rest.
Where songs are sung, where poems are read, life burns.
Voivodes are born to wash away the common shame and unite the people.
Heroes who will revive the fatherland from the ashes of the rout.

Where it has flowed, it will flow again..

I walk alone
For the sake of everyone I love and know
For the blush of unspoiled fruit
So we can walk out into the sun
Freemen and not slaves
So we can get out from under the thumb
Of oppressors who seek to keep us down,
For the Americas
My Americans
For her siblings, allies of dear note to
Fair Lady Columbia
For all that share in the rays of the cosmos
My friends, nature is so beautiful
And once was so full, in this world
Of all the things gone extinct
It is less they do not control
Remember, you too are an animal

History is like a mirror;
the closer you look,
the more you'll see things
that you don't want to see.
The more distorted the picture becomes.
But, if it's your history you're looking at,
the distortion offers a rare chance.
A chance to change the way
you look at your past.