Hristo Botev - To my Brother lyrics

It's difficult to live, my brother, among such thick-skulled blunder-heads; the fires of my youth are smothered, my heart is torn to bitter shreds. I love the land where I was born and I protect its ancient wealth, yet when I show these oafs my scorn I bring destruction to myself. Dreams of darkness, thoughts of storm, have nailed my young soul to the cross. O, who will place a friendly hand upon my heart in its distress? No one, no one. Freedom, joy neither does it recognize; yet it pa**ionately joins its answer to a people's cries. Brother, I shed tears in secret where anguished people are interred; but, tell me, what should I respect upon this dead, insidious earth? Nothing, nothing. To a frank and upright voice there's no reply, and your soul, too, does not react to the voice of God - a people's cry.