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WITAMY NA STRONIE GŁÓWNEJ |
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| Holy Virgin who shelters our bright Częstochowa And shines in Ostra Brama! You, who yet watch over The castled Nowogródek's folk faithful and mild; As You once had returned me to health, a sick child, (When by my weeping mother into Your care given, I by miracle opened a dead eye to heaven, And to Your temple's threshold could straightaway falter For a life thus returned to thank God at the altar) Thus to motherland's breast You will bring us again. |
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| Lithuania, my country! You are as good health: How much one should prize you, he only can tell Who has lost you. Your beauty and splendour I view And describe here today, for I long after you. |
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| Meanwhile, bear my soul heavy with yearning's dull pain, To those soft woodland hillocks, those meadows, green, gleaming, Spread wide along each side of the blue-flowing Niemen, To those fields, which by various grain painted, there lie Shimmering, with wheat gilded, and silvered with rye; Where grows the amber mustard, buckwheat white as snow, Where, with maidenly blushes, clover flowers glow, And all as if beribboned by green strips of land, The balks, upon which scattered quiet pear trees stand. |
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