Hadji Dimitur

 by Hristo Botev 1873

О he lives! He lives! There on the Balkan

bathed in blood, lies and moans

a hero with a wound deep in his chest

a hero in youth and manly strength

One on side lies thrown his gun

on the other his sword lies broken in two pieces

 eyes  blurred,  head swings

mouth swears all universe!

A hero lies, and on the sky

Stopped the sun and scorches with anger

a cropper woman sings somewhere in the fields

and the blood violently streams.

Its harvest-time...Sing, slave women

sing this woeful songs! Shine forth and you Sun,

in this land of slavery! And this hero will die

too...But fall silent ,Heart!

The one fallen in battle for liberty

cannot die,  he is morn by

land and sky ,nature, beast

and singers songs for him will sing...

By the day his shadow guarded by a hen -eagle

a wolf gently licks his wound

above him a falcon, a heroic bird

 for a brother ,for a hero cares!

Night falls, moon rises

stars scatter Heaven's arch

forest whispers, wind blows

The Balkan sings a hero's song!

And nymphs all dressed in white

strange, beautiful –singing,

 silently wading in the green grass

 by  the hero they come and sit

One with herbs binds his wounds

other sprinkles him with frosty water

the  third softly kisses his lips

and he stares at her-she's smiling and kind

Tell me, my sister-Where is the Karadja?

And where are my loyal fellows

Tell me, and then take my soul

I want, my sister ,here in death to repose

They clap their hands, clasp one another

And flit into the heavens above

They fly and sing until first light finds them

Searching for the soul of The Karadja!

But day breaks! And in the Balkan

The hero still lies, his blood streams

The wolf his bitter wound licks and

the sun  still scorches and scorches  in flames!

my translation