Young Europe

Like a wretched orphan with a cruel fate

I see young Europe as a stepmother of late.

Am I the only one whose faith she took from me coldly

or do others also hide their tears boldly?

A big dream of a happy future for a second

flashed in my eyes and beckoned

to embrace me warmly, but like a dear mother,

to recharge my dwindled power.

Let this European path so famous

from weeds and thorns to save us.

To tear the walls between us, and I believe

there is a lot to achieve.

A spirit of endless laughter in our ears will ring.

Earth, relieved, will be heard to sing.

But the glimmer in the eyes fades, and is now not so bright

just as the sun's rays die in the night.

But I know the ray of hope will come back to me tomorrow

and the stepmother will once again appear as a mother.

She will clasp my hand and with an enchanting whisper bend

to softly utter, "This dream has no end!"

If it manages to build invisible bridges,

our hands outstretched beyond the ridges

will then be grabbed by a friendly hand,

which won’t let go – not for anything in the world.

It will boldly guide us even

to the chaos European.

Author: Stilyan Iliev,

8^th grade student,

St. Climent Ohriski High School

Aksakovo