It is year in 681. The mist so thick had scattered away Hazy sunset enlightened majestic silhouette Dark red shadow set peoples soul on fire He was their trusted Leader His armour still flashing out the silver moonlight In the Night of the choice Picked up in his heart all courage and pain Of Protobulgarian warriors fallen Waving the powerful sword in his iron hand If you can hear and feel all this, Then you will see his sword stabbed in the mud And his roar splitting the ground May this be Bulgaria! With its glory, may glory all the tribe, When it suffers, may we all suffer! Nows time to fight out our land And coming through thousands of battle Will end up in his great cause!
protobulgarian, bulgaria, glory, sword, hazy