Longing for the South

      Konstantin Miladinov   

If I had an eagle's wings

I would rise and fly on them

To our shores, to our own parts,

To See Stambol, to See Kukuš;

And to watch the sunrise: is it

Dim there too, as it is here?

If the sun still rises dimly,

If it meets me there as here,

I'll prepare for further travels,

I shall flee to other shores

Where the sunrise greets me brightly,

And the sky is sewn with the stars.

It is dark here, dark surrounds me,

Dark covers all the earth,

Here are frost and snow and ashes,

Blizzards and harsh winds abound,

Fogs all around, the earth is ice,

And in the breast are cold, dark thoughts.

No, I cannot stay here, no;

I cannot stay with these frosts.

Give me wings and I will don them;

I will fly to our own shores,

Go once more to our own places,

Go to Ohrid and to Struga.

There the sunrise warms the soul,

The sun brightens in mountain woods:

Yonder gifts in great profusion

Richly spread by nature's power.

See the clear lake stretching white -

Or bluely darkened by the wind,

Look you at the plains or mountains:

Beauty everywhere divine.

To live there to my heart's content!

Ah! let the sun set, let me die.