A keresés eredménye

Pirin's Horo

Day is dawning, dear
come, the day is dawning
over the Pirin, dear
high above the Pirin, oh
 
The song has gathered
the young and old
in beautiful dress
with drawn pendars
 
And rounds the blue sky
hawkish bird
and listens, oh
the song of the Pirin, dear
 
And you, dear sisters,
Rila and Rodopa, oh
sings your brother
come, the Pirin sings
 
--
 
Pirin sings, oh my love
come, the Pirin sings
the mountain with a man's name
the song is twisting again, oh
 
Let him sing and play
let him dance, oh dear
let it listen oh,
the entire homeland!
 
Sing oh birds, sing oh pines,
sing, you proud people,
from up high, to the far
let it be heard
 
A song like this
cannot be held in the throat
sing my birth land
sing Pirin mountain!
 
A song like this
cannot be held in the throat
sing my birth land
sing Pirin mountain!
 

Dear Stano

Dear Stano, pure Stano,
When did you grow, dear, when did you grow?
When did you grow, dear, when did you grow,
A grown woman you've become!
 
A grown woman you've become!
A grown woman, dear, ready for marriage.
With your cherry eyes,
Whoever you see, dear, you burn him.
 
Whoever you see, you burn him.
You saw me, dear, and you burnt me, too.
You saw me, dear, and you burnt me, too.
You burnt me, dear, burnt me so bad.
 

Georgi Was Left An Orphan

Georgi was left an orphan,
without a father, this Georgi, but with a mother.
 
So his mother raised him,
he bacame a big lad.
 
Wonders his mother, she wonders,
what craft to choose for him.
 
She chose, his moher, she chose,
to make him a goldsmith.
 
A young goldsmith in the village,
to make bracelets, rings.
 
Georgi was pouring gold,
pouring gold, he was.
 
Twice his face was shining,
twice shined, threefold shined on.
 

Stojne le, Stojne

Stojne le, Stojne, beautiful Stojne,
I'm exausted, Stojne, I'm tired
Of people talking about me, Stojne,
Of people making fun of me.
Of people talking about me, Stojne,
Of people making fun of me.
 
For I come here every night, Stojne,
To your doors on high.
Hopefully, I will overhear your voice, Stojne,
hopefully, you'll come to the doors.
Hopefully, I will overhear your voice, Stojne,
hopefully, you'll come to the doors.
 
Stojne le, Stojne, beautiful Stojne,
Look at me just once.
Look at me just once, Stojne,
Wink at me just once.
Look at me just once. Stojne,
Wink at me just once.
 

The White Monasteries

They are selling them, mother,
The White Monasteries
The White Monasteries, dear mother,
With the black nuns.
 
Everybody wants
To go to a monastery
But nobody has the money, dear mother,
To buy one.
 
Where did he come from
This young jewish boy
The young jewish boy, dear mother,
The merchant one?
 
That wants to
To buy a monastery.
The White Monasteries, dear mother,
With the black nuns.
 
He wants to
To buy the monastery.
To buy the monastery, dear mother,
To build a bazaar there.
 
The nuns are crying
They don't give their monastery
They don't give their monastery, dear mother,
For they don't want it to become a bazaar.
 

You're beautiful, my forest

Versions: #2
You're beautiful, my forest
you smell of youth,
but you inspire in our hearts
only grief and sorrow.
 
Whoever looks at you once,
he mourns eternally,
not being able under your
shadows to smoulder.
 
Your oaks and beeches,
your dense leaves,
and the flowers, and the waters,
the fat lambs, and the peony, and the grass
and your coolness,
everything, I say,
sometimes like a bullet falls
on my heart, that is always ready
to weep, when it sees
the new in nature,
when it sees how the spring
sends the old away,
and under the snow, under the cold
life begins anew.
 
But whoever must
forever leave you,
he cannot until he lives,
forget you.
 

I Was Invited, Mom, To A Sorrowful Wedding

I was invited, mom, to a sorrowful wedding,
to a sorrowful wedding a young best man to be.
To my first love best man to be,
to first love, to first passion.
 
When I see her in a white attire,
the eyes will weep, the heart will mourn.
Come and teach me, my elderly mom,
to first love how best man to be.
 
Hearken, my son, to your elderly mother,
to first love it is not best man to be,
to first love the heart is to be given
to first love, to first passion.
 

A carriage is running

A carriage is running in front of ......
Titi-biti, indiri-bindiri, bi
A colorful, painted carriage.
 
And who was in the carriage?
Titi-biti, indiri-bindiri, bi
A colorful, painted carriage.
 
Radka1 was in the carriage.
Titi-biti, indiri-bindiri, bi
A colorful, painted carriage.
 
And who was driving the carriage?
Ivan2 was driving the carriage
Titi-biti, indiri-bindiri, bi
 
The carriage is going back, overturns.
And Ivan caresses Radka.
A colorful, painted carriage.
 

• 1. Female's name
• 2. Male's name

Somebody clatters, bangs

Somebody clatters, bangs, my mother,
Somebody clatters, bangs, dear mother.
 
Clatters, bangs, knock, rocks
My first love, dear mother,
Clatters, bangs, knock, rocks.
I'll go to open the door for him.
 
1.
- Don't open the door for him, my daughter.
We don't have anything for dinner.
- His dinner, dear mother, will be my sweet words.
 
Somebody clatters, bangs, my mother,
Somebody clatters, bangs, dear mother.
 
Clatters, bangs, knock, rocks
My first love, dear mother,
Clatters, bangs, knock, rocks.
I'll go to open the door for him.
 
2.
- Don't open the door for him, my daughter.
We don't have any rakia1.
- His rakia, dear mother, will be my black eyes.
 
Somebody clatters, bangs, my mother,
Somebody clatters, bangs, dear mother.
 
Clatters, bangs, knock, rocks
My first love, dear mother,
Clatters, bangs, knock, rocks.
I'll go to open the door for him.
 
3.
- Don't open the door for him, my daughter.
We don't have a bed cover.
- His bed cover, dear mother, will be my slim body.
 

• 1. Traditional bulgarian alcoholic beverage made by fruits.

A granny heard, understood

A granny1 heard, understood
Where old women get married,
Where old women get married,
Get married for young men2
 
Granny took the canteens
And went to fill water
From the cold water well
And found there a bachelor
 
- Good morning, granny!
- God bless you, my love!
- God bless you, my love,
You'll be mine tonight!
 
- Don't, humped granny!
You have a beautiful daughter.
Com on, granny, give her to me,
And I'll give you a headscarf.
 

• 1. Баба (baba) literally means grandmother but it is used for any old woman as well
• 2. Literally - bachelors

Dilmana

Dilmana, beautiful one,
Dilmana, beautiful one,
Tell me how to plant pepper
Tell me how to plant pepper
 
Dilmana, beautiful one,
Dilmana, beautiful one,
Tell me how to plant pepper
Tell me how to plant pepper
 
So it blossoms and gives fruits
So it blossoms and gives fruits
And you can pick, pick, pick as much as you want
And you can pick, pick, pick as much as you want
 
So it blossoms and gives fruits
So it blossoms and gives fruits
And you can pick, pick, pick as much as you want
And you can pick, pick, pick as much as you want
 
Poke the ground, plant it there
Poke the ground, plant it there
That's how it plants pepper
That's how it plants pepper
 
Poke the ground, plant it there
Poke the ground, plant it there
That's how it plants pepper
That's how it plants pepper
 
So it blossoms and gives fruits
So it blossoms and gives fruits
And you can pick, pick, pick as much as you want
And you can pick, pick, pick as much as you want
 
So it blossoms and gives fruits
So it blossoms and gives fruits
And you can pick, pick, pick as much as you want
And you can pick, pick, pick as much as you want
 

A wise - woman from Strandzha became famous

A wise - woman from Strandzha (1) became famous,
for knowing how to tell fortunes,
to tell fortunes and prophesy.
Everyone found out, heard
Dobre learned as well,
he also went to the wise - woman.
And he told her:
''Tell my fortune and divine!
And be right about it -
whom I will marry and how many children will I become!''
The wise - woman said to Dobri:
'Why are you lying to me, Dobri le,
when you get home
your wife would be dead,
your wife, Dobre, the children too!
Time will past, short time, not long,
and you will start playing the kaval(2)!
A snake will crawl through the kaval
and bite your face
and you, Dobri le, will die!''
 

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