Oj ti pile, slavej pile,

ja zapej mi edna pesna,

ja zapej mi edna pesna,

edna pesna ·zalovita.

Oh bird, nightingale bird,

sing me a song,

sing me a song,

a mournful song.

·Zalna majka, v sebe pla·ce,

vnucite gi te·si.

Bol vo gradi lut ja vie,

a nif im se sme·si.

Ah, spite, vnuci moj',

pak, pak ke dojde toj.

Ke vi pee za Bitola,

za na·s roden kraj.

The grieving mother weeps to herself

and consoles her grandchildren.

The aching in her heart is unbearable,

but she smiles at them.

Ah, sleep my grandchildren,

he will come back again.

He will sing to you of Bitola,

of our native town.

Bitola, moj roden kraj,

vo tebe sum roden, mene si mi mil.

Bitola, moj roden kraj,

jas te sakam od srce znaj.

Bitola, moj roden kraj,

jas te sakam, za tebe peam.

Bitola, my birthplace,

I was born in you, you are dear to me.

Bitola my birthplace,

know that I love you from the heart.

Bitola, my birthplace,

I love you, I sing of you.

Makedonsko devoj·ce, kitka ·sarena,

vo gradina nabrana, dar podarena.

Dali ima n' ovoj beli svet

poubavo devoj·ce od makedon·ce?

Nema, nema, ne ke se rodi

poubavo devoj·ce od makedon·ce!

Macedonian girl,

many-colored bouquet,

gathered in the garden,

given as a gift.

Is there in this wide world

a more beautiful girl than a Macedonian?

There isn't, there isn't, there won't be born

a more beautiful girl than a Macedonian!

Nema dzvezdi po-li·cni od tvoj'te o·ci.

Da se no ke na nebo den·ke razdeni.

Dali ima n' ovoj beli svet

poubavo devoj·ce od makedonce?

Nema, nema ne ke se rodi

poubavo devoj·ce od makedonce!

There are no stars more beautiful

than your eyes.

They light up the night sky

as if it were dawn.

Is there in this wide world

a more beautiful girl than a Macedonian?

There isn't, there isn't, there won't be born

a more beautiful girl than a Macedonian