Falcon, my beloved, far up beyond proud Pirin,
Keeping watch in moonlit nights,
O’er our homeland, forest, field, ravine.
When the Maritsa froths, that glor’ous river,
And breezes rustle through the fields as ever,
I will cheer you ‘cross the forests
to the mountains’ heights.
Oft, at night, beloved, am
I reaching for your hand –
My heart is pure, my love
is like our Thracian land.
Watch o’er our land and guard,
stand guard,
That our country from the raids
of enemies be barred!
My falcon, feel my love
so strong and deep,
As the Maritsa’s rushing waters
toss and leap.