1762 лето (1762 leto)
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1762 лето
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1762 leto
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1762 summer
- One thousand seven hundred
- sixty second summer
- to Ohrid, from Constantinople, came Salaor.
- Hey! Came Salaor.
- He presented himself to Arsenie,
- our honorable patriarch,
- and he told him bitter, sad words.
- Hey! Sad words.
- It is Emperor's will for you to go
- to Constantinople today,
- the evil Greeks complain a lot about you.
- Hey! Complain a lot.
- The patriarch gathered his flock,
- in the St. Clement's church,
- he gave them his last blessing, with praying hands.
- Hey! Praying hands.
- The old man cried long,
- while the crowd was silent,
- on his white beard fell burning tears.
- Hey! Burning tears.
- Hear me, dear children,
- I will do to Constantinople,
- the evil Greeks complain a lot about me.
- Hey! Complain a lot.
- The Greek patriarch will crumb
- our glorious Ohrid Chair,
- and will keep me locked until death.
- Hey! Locked until death.
- He will send Greek bishops,
- with faces like saints and hearts like wolves,
- they'll strangle and shave you and milk your blood.
- Hey! Milk your blood.
- Among the people they'll plant
- disagreements and discords,
- a son will hate his father, and a brother his brother.
- Hey! A brother his brother.
- And you will cry to God
- but you won't find a wing,
- so you will keep your heads down to the ground.
- Hey! Heads down to the ground.
- You will be orphans,
- for that was written.
- Come to me, I want to hug you for the last time.
- Hey! For the last time.
- A black sorrow overwhelmed
- old, young, men and women,
- everyone is with praying hands, shed tears.
- Hey! Shed tears.
- He hugs them, they are sad,
- they kiss his right hand,
- and from the hand, like from a spring, tears flow.
- Hey! Tears flow.
- The patriarch rode his fast horse,
- and started his journey.
- Then a thundering cry from the people split the sky in half.
- Hey! Split the sky in half.
- The honorable patriarch stopped,
- took off his embroidered hat,
- looked at the blue sky, and cursed with anger.
- Hey! Cursed with anger.
- "Oh, hear me, dear God!
- May never find peace,
- Stamche Bey and Bujar Ligdo, Peyko Chelebi"!
- Hey! Peyko Chelebi.
- The merciful God heard
- patriarch's bitter curse,
- and their honor, their seed, he executed with thunder.
- Hey! He executed with thunder.
- And even now in their houses
- the spider builds his web,
- and on the empty rooftops owls hoot.
- Hey! Owls hoot.