O Albania, poor Albania!

 

O poor Albania wearing patches!

Who’s thrown your head into ashes?

Once you were a mighty fair lady,

Mother of men fighting so bravely;

You were rich in blessings and nobility,

Fine girls and young lads: what a prosperity!

You had many sheep and plenty of land,

You had silver weapons and guns in hand,

Your men so daring and your women so tender,

Of all your friends you were the best!

 

When bullets were falling like autumn rain

Albanian valor never pured in vain,

Her sons fought the battle and often died

For liberty which proved to be their pride!

If your warrior gave his pledge of honour

Foes would always shiver with horror:

He was the hero of fierce battles

Never throwing mud on your glorious banners!

 

But today, Albania, tell me, how you are?

Once a high tree, but now a broken car:

The world is trampling her feet on your,

And none utters sweet words of your dew!

Once your were like a snow-covered mountain,

A flowered field your were, but now only a fountain

With neither water, nor fame, nor a good name,

Your ruined them, and for his you are to blame!

 

Albanians, you are killing each other withour mercy,

You’re divided into a hundred groups, it’s no fancy:

Some assert to be religious and others genuine,

One claims to be Turkish, the other to be Latin,

Some call themselves Greek, the others Serbs,

But we are all brothers, o poor wretched birds!

Religion has provided you with apples of discord

To ride your backs freely and make your lives short;

Then comes the forigner and occupies your hearth,

Making your sister a slave and your bride a sweetheart;

You’ve given money and later begin to forget

Ancesors, their advice, blood and honest debt,

Thus, you wear the yoke of a ruthless invader,

Becoming obedient slaves once and for ever!

 

Wail, you, swords, and weep you, guns, everywhere!

Albania is caught in atrap just like a scared hare!

Let valor wail with our aching and piercind sound,

Albania has fallen down and is lying on the ground!

She is so poor and completely strained,

She doesn’t have fire of light, her vision has failed,

Her face is pale and she has no friend,

Her pain is severe and perhaps never ends!

 

Unite you, lasses, come close you, women!

Let your pretty tearful eyes speak,

And cry your hearts out, for Albania’s poor,

She’s empty, nameless, and devasted, for sure;

She’s like a widow abandoned for ever,

She’s like a mother withour children, barren.

 

Who’s so ruthless as to let her pass away?

She was too brave, but she’s so ill today,

Shall we allow the iron heel to kick her face?

She’s our beloved mother and deserves no disgrace.

 

No, no, nobody is ugly enough to love such shame,

Only roughes could happily play this dirty game;

Better die fighting on her glorious behalf

Than watch her suffer and burst into laugh!

 

Arise you, Albanians, from sleep, arise,

Unite around each other and open your eyes,

Leace aside religion and break the chains,

Albania is yours, do away with her pains!

 

The land lying between Tivari and Preveze,

Where the sun sparkles down bright hot rays,

Is ours, it was our ancestor’s as well,

None dares touch it: we’ll send him to hell!

Let us stand manly and never kneel down,

And tell God we hate shame and being undone.

 

 

Translated into english by Ukzenel Buçpapa