Ott ahol, zúg az a négy folyó [English translation]

Now on the prairie, in the heat of summer, mirage sways

Fires burn, the light is blinding, the world is shining

On top of hills, wine is being harvested

The old willow trees become bridal bouquets

The silky meadow is green gold, the lake is blue silver

On silent nights, the tárogató cries out ever so quietly

Where those four rivers roam

Where it is good to suffer

Where so much precioud blood was spilt

The wind tells the tale of a millenia

The horn sounds on the ancient mountaintop

There's a soldier on the Hargita

On the holy tops of Transylvania, flies

The Hungarian turul bird flies back

Where those four rivers roam

Where it is good to suffer

Where, above a fairy tale-like lake

The sun is chuckling and watching her fiery face

Where legends are born, songs fly

The horn sounds, the old brave one

And where Transylvania's blue top stands

The Hungarian turul bird flies back

Where those four rivers roam

Where it is good to suffer

Where so much precioud blood was spilt

The song sounds, Kolozsvár returns

The horn sounds on the ancient mountaintop

There's a soldier on the Hargita

On the holy tops of Transylvania, flies

The Hungarian turul bird flies back