Îòâúä ïëàíèíèòå ñ ìúãëà óâåí÷àíè,
êúì äðåâíè ÷åðòîçè â íåäðàòà ñìúë÷àíè,
ïðåç óòðèíåí ìðàê ïîòåãëÿìå ïàê
äà äèðèì âúëøåáíîòî çëàòíî èìàíå.
Äæóäæåòàòà ñèëíè ìàãèè òâîðÿõà
è òåõíèòå ÷óêîâå çâúíêî êúíòÿõà.
 íàé-òàéíèÿ êúò, ãäå ñåíêèòå ñïÿò,
äàëå÷ ïîä ñêàëèòå äâîðöèòå èì áÿõà.
Çà åëôè è äðåâíè êðàëå îòäàëå÷å
áåçáðîé êðàñîòè ñúòâîðÿâàõà âå÷å
è çíàåõà òàéíè, ëú÷èòå ñèÿéíè
äà ñáèðàò âúâ êàìúê, ñêðåïåí âúðõó ìå÷à.
Ïðåâðúùàõà â íàíèç çâåçäèòå ñðåäíîùíè,
âåí÷àåõà äðúçêî êîðîíèòå ìîùíè
ñúñ äðàêîíîâ ïëàì, à ñëúíöåòî òàì
ñ ëóíà ñú÷åòàâàõà â ïëåòêè ðàçêîøíè.
Îòâúä ïëàíèíèòå ñ ìúãëà óâåí÷àíè,
êúì äðåâíè ÷åðòîçè â íåäðàòà ñìúë÷àíè,
ïðåç óòðèíåí ìðàê ïîòåãëÿìå ïàê
äà äèðèì çàáðàâåíî ñòàðî èìàíå.
Áîêàëè äúëáîêè èçâàéâàõà íîâè
è àðôè îò çëàòî; äå íèêîé íå ðîâè
ëåæàõà âúâ ìðàê, è ïÿõà ñúñ ñìÿõ
ïåñíè, íå÷óòè îò åëôè è îò õîðà.
Áîðîâåòå áó÷àõà êàòî õèùíè ïòèöè,
âåòðîâåòå âèåõà êàòî âäîâèöè,
à îãúíÿ àëåí, ðåäîì çàïàëè
äúðâåòà è õðàñòè, è ìàëêè òðåâèöè...
Êàìáàíèòå áèåõà âúâ äîëèíàòà,
à õîðàòà ïëà÷åõà, ñ ìúêà â ñúðöàòà;
÷å äðàêîíîâ ãíÿâ, âúâ îãúí èçëÿí
òåõíèòå êúùè ñðàâíè ñúñ çåìÿòà ...
Ïëàíèíàòà ïóøåøå ïîä ëóíàòà
Äæóäæåòàòà ÷óõà çîâà íà Ñúäáàòà.
Òå áÿãàõà ñ ñòðàõ, óìèðàõà â ïðàõ,
èçïîä êðàêàòà ìîãúùè, ïîä ëóíàòà.
Îòâúä ïëàíèíèòå ìúãëèâî-æåñòîêè,
êúì çàòâîðè è çàëè â íåäðàòà äúëáîêî
ïðåç óòðèíåí ìðàê ïîòåãëÿìå ïàê
äà ñè âúðíåì íèé çëàòíèòå àðôè è ñòîêè!
Îòâúä ïëàíèíèòå ñ ìúãëà óâåí÷àíè,
êúì äðåâíè ÷åðòîçè â íåäðàòà ñìúë÷àíè...
Îðèãèíàë:
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep, and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
For ancient king and elvish lord,
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.
Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold; where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.
The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light.
The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale;
Then dragon`s ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.
The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
Far over the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep, and caverns old...