Udha e mbarë se erdh pranvera,
shko, dallëndyshe tue fluturue,
prej Misirit n’dhena tjera,
fusha e male tue kërkue;
n’Shqipni shko, pra, fluturim,
shko në Shkodër, n’qytetin tim.

Shëndet prej meje të m’i falësh
saj shpisë vjetër ku kam le,
me ato vende rreth t’përfalesh,
ku kam shkue kohën e re;
atje shko, pra, fluturim,
fal me shndet qytetit tim.

Me ato male, me ato kodra,
me ato prroje rreth t’përfalesh
n’ato fusha që m’ka Shkodra
të lulzueme, aty t’ndalesh;
tue kndue me ambëlcim,
fal me shndet qytetit tim.

T’mujsha dhe un’ me fluturue
dojsha dhe un’ me u nisë me ty,
dojsha n’Shkodër me kalue,
m’e pa prap at’vend me sy!
Por… ti shko atje… fluturim
e ti qajma fatin tim.

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