Here is a song that one Romanian made it for our sister Kristy and for us Macedonians.All thanks to him for great poem.
I never thought Alexander the Macedonian
Could be named anything else but Alexander,
Or could be called anything else but Macedonian.
His troops split among themselves the spoils of war,
But in the end, the victors were the Greeks,
Because the idea makes the sword, and the idea wins against the sword, in time.
And yet, Alexander himself was not Greek.
When the wave of Slavs came,
Your name was not taken by the sea,
And although your language took Slavic melody,
The word which sustains your world remained Macedonian.
And Slavs were not a Turkish tribe,
So, how could you be Bulgarian ?
You passed to be in the shadow of three empires,
But you kept the light of your ancestors sun,
And slowly created a new sun for your children,
Because the new struggle needed new gods.
There are many mountains in your country,
Because every mountain is the statue of a hero,
And you have many lakes, to wash away the fear
And all the muddy arguments thrown against you.
The horses do not die when the dogs want to, it is said in my country,
So how could a lion die, just because some hyenas are hungry ?
The tailored costumes seem more beautiful,
And much greater the delight of songs,
When the traditions were kept with heroism,
And people followed the path of tears to reach their freedom,
Instead of the seductive comfort of slaves.
I have nothing to give Macedonians but my heart,
And from my heart I wish for you,
Since only the sun is older than you,
To be alive as long as him.
Thank you very much.
I never thought Alexander the Macedonian
Could be named anything else but Alexander,
Or could be called anything else but Macedonian.
His troops split among themselves the spoils of war,
But in the end, the victors were the Greeks,
Because the idea makes the sword, and the idea wins against the sword, in time.
And yet, Alexander himself was not Greek.
When the wave of Slavs came,
Your name was not taken by the sea,
And although your language took Slavic melody,
The word which sustains your world remained Macedonian.
And Slavs were not a Turkish tribe,
So, how could you be Bulgarian ?
You passed to be in the shadow of three empires,
But you kept the light of your ancestors sun,
And slowly created a new sun for your children,
Because the new struggle needed new gods.
There are many mountains in your country,
Because every mountain is the statue of a hero,
And you have many lakes, to wash away the fear
And all the muddy arguments thrown against you.
The horses do not die when the dogs want to, it is said in my country,
So how could a lion die, just because some hyenas are hungry ?
The tailored costumes seem more beautiful,
And much greater the delight of songs,
When the traditions were kept with heroism,
And people followed the path of tears to reach their freedom,
Instead of the seductive comfort of slaves.
I have nothing to give Macedonians but my heart,
And from my heart I wish for you,
Since only the sun is older than you,
To be alive as long as him.
Thank you very much.
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