Nad moyta zemya
             v nebeto
                    opira
                        Pirin.
I murite v burya
              ilindenski prikazki peyat,
nad Ohrid lazura e
                tolkoz prostoren i sin,
a oshte nadole
                  e svetlia bryag na Egeya.
Spomnyam si samo.
            I eto nahluva kravta
vav sarceto, koeto
                topi se ot nyakakva nezhnost...
Moya strana! Moya prekrasna strana!...
Poena sas krav
            i razlyulyana
                      v metezhi.
Po Belasica teleni mrezhi...