O you, my Mother, my Native Land, <br />Why is your cry so sad and heart-rending! <br />And you, O Raven, accursed bird, <br />On whose grave croak you of ill impending? <br /> <br />I know, ah I know, you weep, my Mother, <br />Because you're a slave in bondage lying, <br />You weep because your sacred voice <br />Is a helpless voice in a desert crying. <br /> <br />Weep on, weep on! Near Sofia town <br />A ghastly gallows I have seen standing, <br />And your own son, Bulgaria, <br />There with dreadful force is hanging. <br /> <br />The raven gives its grim hoarse croak, <br />Dogs yelp, wolves howl, the sky is bleak, <br />Old men in prayers their God invoke, <br />Women shed tears, the children shriek. <br /> <br />The winter sings its evil song, <br />Squalls chase the thistles in the plain, <br />And cold and frost and hopeless tears <br />Wring and twist your heart with pain.<br /><br />Khristo Botev<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-hanging-of-levski/
