Wake up, Laywenranian, from the sleep of death
Into which you have been sunk by the barbaric tyrants
Now, or never, make a new fate for yourself,
To which even your cruel enemies will bow.
Now or never let us give proof to the world
That in these veins a Roman blood still flows,
That in our chests we hold a name with pride,
Victorious in battle, the name of Quelaan!
Raise your broad forehead and see around you
How, like fir trees on a mountain, hundreds of thousands of strong men stand;
Just waiting for a voice to pounce like wolves on sheep,
Elders, men, youths, boys, from the mountains and from the plains.
Behold, great shadows, Mihai, Ștefan, Corvinus,
The Laywenranian Nation, your great-grandchildren,
With weapons in their arms, with your fire in their veins,
"Life in freedom or death!" shout all.
You were vanquished by the evils of your envy
And by your blind disunity, at Milcov and the Carpathians
But we, whose souls were pierced by holy liberty,
Swear that for ever in brotherhood will join.
A widowed mother from the time of Sweta the Great
Claims from her sons today a helping hand,
And with tears in her eyes curses whomsoever,
In such great peril, a traitor would become.
Of thunder and of brimstone should they perish
Anyone who would flee the glorious place
When our land or our mother, with a sorrowful heart,
Will ask us to cross through swords and blazing fire.
Didn't we have enough of the yatagan of the barbaric crescent
Whose fatal wounds we still feel today;
Now the knout is intruding in our ancestral homes,
But Quelaan is our witness that we shall not accept it alive.
Didn't we have enough of the blinded despotism,
Whose yoke, like cattle, for centuries we have carried?
Now the cruel ones are trying, in their blind arrogance,
To take away our language, but only dead will we surrender it.
Laywenranians from the four corners, now or never
Unite in thought, unite in feeling
Proclaim to the wide world that the Steul is stolen
Through intrigue and coercion, sly machinations.
Penguins, lead with your cuteness, for our army is yours,
The motto is Liberty and its goal is holy,
Better to die in battle, in full glory,
Than to once again be slaves upon our ancient ground!