A Bulgarian Girl's Letter to Black Women

I once have been braided  
with colourful threads so Wild.      
Assertive, independent and unjaded,      
I want to share a Tale of Fright.      
      
When you refer to white people      
as the true nightmare that overstepped;      
I'd connote Bulgaria's steeples,    
mountains, swamps and forests ahead...      
     
There was a Great Empire,    
where the Bogomils were Pure in Faith      
and Medieval Kings of Fire      
put a banner to that Land and stayed.      
     
Khan Kubrat was bold, of noble origin;      
his Sons spread the Teachings abroad,      
the one called Asparuh ignited our kin,    
below Danube, the land that he owned.    
     
We took a new Faith, the one of the Christians,      
following unknown routes after Pagan Oaths,      
in about a millennium Peter Dunov's allegiance      
revived the Bogomil roots and legacy of Hopes.      
     
Sadly, so flawed, we played at that time,      
engaging in wars of that shameful reign,    
forgetting the law and our family's prime,    
instilling with Samuil an Avid domain.      
     
Having marched some miles, Simeon The Great,    
Owned to our shores three spaced out vital Seas,      
at South, apart, meanwhile, living different fates,    
you, Black men were outdoors and sacredness pleased.    
     
Putting plates theurgic underneath your skin,      
devoting tribal rites, confirming your Beliefs,      
New nations surging at the heat of aimed wins,    
and now the Story sighs, while turning to Grief.      
     
In 1396 there was a Wretched Omen      
that soaked in the veins of the Royals deadening,    
The regional fight of our Brothers was sowing    
the onset of an Epoch with a premonition Menacing.      
     
The Ottomans attacked, a scourge from the South,    
showing no Mercy in God's, in Allah's name,    
fearless passion for the Lord without doubt,      
but for all the others - a Reality of Bane.      
     
Tell me, you Reinforced Black Woman?    
How does it feel to smash enemies that stand      
in your way, I'm proud of you grooving,      
as this happened also in my White Land.      
     
They came in to grab, a plague of our doom,      
massacring life with senseless cruel airs,  
corpses piling up and blood in fire fumes,      
the elderly, the wives, the kids and all the pairs.      
     
And then we turned into slaves,      
we had houses, animals even,      
but we were deprived of right of Faith      
and we had to pay duty not even,      
     
as it was genuinely pillaging,      
ninety five percent of all,      
our Firstborn boys were taken in,      
becoming Janissaries of the Sultan Tsar.      
     
The bashi-bazouk irregular military source      
fed from Slaughtering and Marauder,      
it took pleasure in the sheer Brute Force,    
when smashing our skulls and pulling our hair.      
     
They raped the wives and the daughters,    
sliced the Fathers' throats before their eyes, a scathe,    
and at night they entered through our doors,    
blackmailing us with gory threats to change our faith.    
     
They were the endless source of our fear,    
the Pasha in the Konak was inspecting ever;    
the time of our Rebellion moved slowly but near;      
the Ottoman Police the plotters' lives severed.    
     
Levski Vasil, our Apostle and foundation,    
had Lion heart forces and blue were his eyes,    
he rode infiltrated in the Ottoman formations,    
he sat on their horses, sneaky, bravest and wise.    
     
Alas, they caught him and happily hung him,      
A tragedy that broke us and our fragile hopes,    
The Rebellion's hymn prematurely would sing,    
chaotic, desperate and driven by ... who knows.    
     
Our spirits were fighting to free our sweet home,    
meeting the enemies directly in the face,    
our barut igniting, would suddenly be done,      
so we Took Our Brothers' Corpses and we Paced,    
     
Throwing at the enemy our Comrades that were Dead,    
seeing that display, the Empire fled in horror;    
thanks to Russia's Holy Help, however, we were Led      
to Freedom regained, oh, a dreamt tomorrow!!      
     
I'd surely be righteous to mention      
that throughout the century last      
the newborn Turk conscience rationed      
subsidies for Churches, unlike the past.      
     
It is true, I have no hatred      
for the way it's been before;      
or the way we've been related;    
Freedom is So Good for Sure!      
     
And after life and freedom are regained,      
come the testimonies new;      
the proof that we can be abstained      
from treachery of the kin for the few.      
     
Neither aggression so racial,      
nor the cults for foreign lore,    
should fool us, so WE SHALL      
Unite and burn ALL WAR!