On the edge of the world,
in a place God has chosen*,
on a day with good intentions,
the Moldovans were born
Between woods and hills
Near the Dniestr, near the Prut,
on a day with good intentions,
the Moldovans...
On the edge of the world,
in a place God has chosen*,
on a day with good intentions,
the Moldovans were born.
Where the sun is rising,
where the wheat has grown,
near the drinks made of grapes**
The Moldovans were born.
Where the birds are singing,
where the fish aren’t mute ,
near the flock of snowwhite sheep,
The Moldovans…
On the edge of the world,
in a place God has chosen*,
on a day with good intentions,
the Moldovans were born.
the Moldovans were born
In a place God has chosen*,
on a day with good intentions,
the Moldovans were born
the Moldovans were born
La-la-la-la-la...
Where the song is still heard,
Where the dance is still seen,
on a day with good intentions,
the Moldovans were born.
Where bread is still appreciated,
Where a man is still believed,
on a day with good intentions,
the Moldovans…
On the edge of the world,
in a place God has chosen*,
on a day with good intentions,
the Moldovans were born.
The Moldovans were born,
the Moldovans were born…
the Moldovans were born.