The heavy hanging chains shall fall, The walls shall crumble at the word, And Freedom greet you with the light And brothers give you back the sword. - Alexander Pushkin

От враг се пази всеки, но…
пази ни от приятел, боже!
Ох вий, приятели! За вас
не току-тъй си спомням аз.

Whoever you be, O my reader-
friend, foe- I wish with you
to part at present as a pal.
Farewell. Whatever you in my wake
sought in these careless strophes-
tumultuous recollections,
relief from labors,
live pictures or bons mots,
or faults of grammar-
God grant that you,
in this book,
for recreation, for the daydream,
for the heart, for jousts in journals,
may find at least a crumb.
Upon which, let us part, farewell!

But sad is he who lacks illusion, Whose head is steady, never stirred, Who hates each impulse, every word, Foreseeing always their conclusion; Whose heart experience has chilled, Whose urge to reverie is stilled.