Mugla Po Balkana

Cherna luna se izdiga v yuzhnoto nebe..
Kichest yavor, vpiva koreni v zemyata velika..

Horoto na ptici, krasivi, dulboko v gorata
Lunata se oglezhda v Tihia Yazovir.
Neka vsichki bulgarski yunaci da se saberat.
Da dignat mecha si za znaka na bulgarskiyat rod.

Veliki, mrachni planini...
Veliki, mrachni planini...

Puteki prez hulmove na drevni gradove.
I kreposti na bulgarskata sila.
Uyutno legnala v kamenna pregrudka,
Na moite snezhni i tumni vurhove.

When the forest dreams eternally, my winds gather beyond the moon. Dark balkan silence, cold majestic silhouttes.
A winter marriage, the mountains drapped in mist.
Shivering moonlight above the ancient fields.
1000 Partisans against the overwhelming enemy.
Hidden in the velvet dress of Vitosha.
These are my old frostbitten mountains.

Slunceto trepti, zaoda, v syankata na Chernia Vruh.
I gorata shepne (vika me), da grabna trona na Vitosha.