If somehow one day we are stricken
By twisted fate from [high] above [us]
Better to spend our whole lives silent
Than to abandon our [dear] language.
Don't whisper to me of another,
Don't shout it out beneath my window!
My point of view is never changing:
I won't abandon our [dear] language!
How long upon this blust'rous planet
Will there exist [our] human breathing?
Holy and beautiful forever
May it live on: our [dear] language!
Chosen by ancient fate to never
fade, with a diction high, enchanting.
Always, beneath the sun, resounding
[just] like a song, [is] our [dear] language.
And so my will 'neath blue horizon:
Let even pagan heathen know her!
I'll not abandon our [dear] language,
Our [dear] language: [sweet] Romanian.