Паисий [Paisiy] [English translation]

One monk, dark, unknown and pale-faced,

Under a flickering lamp, leaning forward was writing

In a humbly furnished, slumbering cell,

Deeply in thoughts, unhearing the pious bell’s toll

At last he sighed and said “It’s done!

A new life chronicle I have penned,

A child of the will-power, a fruit of the vigil,

Silently took a half of my life”

He looked upward, deeply in thoughts

And raised these pages and yelled loud:

“From now on the Bulgarians near and far

A written history possess and a nation are!

From now on the Bulgarians near and far

A written history possess and a nation are!"

“Let them discover from these writings of mine

That once they were great and again shall be mighty;

That we also have given something to the world –

To all Slav peoples their own books to read1

“It was great once this country of ours,

With a long history, covered with glory.

I’ve collected it in this book and it is your testament.

Let the book be copied and multiplied unlimited times.

He looked upward, deeply in thoughts

And raised these pages and yelled loud:

“From now on the Bulgarians near and far

A written history possess and a nation are!

From now on the Bulgarians near and far

A written history possess and a nation are!"

That’s what this man whispered hidden in his cell

With a thoughtful gaze seeing in the future

And was dispersing secretly in the darkness of these days

The first spark of the national consciousness.

1. This line refers to the Cyrillic alphabet