If you take this path,
if you climb this rugged canyon,
like a thief's sword cut,
which ends in Vostina,
don't forget please don't forget
to wave a bouquet of flowers.
A handful of lilies shout of triumph,
lightning glances shooting the air,
to clear the cloudy sky of despair.
Don't forget, these are ships with keys
unlock the locked memory.
From here the Pogonisians went beyond,
in the sung Jannena,
in Arta and Patras with galena and astropelekia,
and our fathers with a sack of goods
and a sack of lust
they were taking the longed-for path of the heart
to the homeland.
Motherland, my sweet mother, sunny homeland,
black curse was the one that brought down the bridges,
that divided our country, drugged our language
and time still stutters.
My mountains, divine thrones of the Dodonian Zeus,
bring all the open ones that the winters have eaten
to lay them down for the heroic mothers to pass through.
A bouquet of amaranth tribute to the fathers
and two flaming wheels on the blackscarves,
to the Virgins of Epirus who nursed with the blood
the orphans of pain
and they held the roof of our house on their shoulders.
With two white tulips betrothed to expectation,
open the black mazes blocked by the storm.
If you continue the path, the journey if you continue further,
don't forget to greet us with a clarinet sigh
the "black swallows from the meadow", circling
in the drunken air.
And if you go out to Ioannina in the evening
and if you see Pamvotida running wild,
with glimpses strange, distant,
throw there also a salicy rose from the moon's bakhtshes
to calm the stormy memory.
If you see the plane trees shaking happily
whispering birbilly, birbilly,
be sure the sunrise
the buds of hope budded
with the eternal dream of freedom,
our world broke the coffin of oblivion.
If you take this path
you will embrace the lavender sun
in the blessed land of the Promise!
photo DanaTentis / https://pixabay.com
