Sidrabiņa upe tek [English translation]

A silver river flows

Alongside the golden hill

There ride all the warlords

To bleach their swords

Dress yourself young brother

Saddle your steed

Beyond the gates I heard

The rumbling of copper drums

Open! Copper gates

Open all the way

Now my brothers will ride

With swords strapped across their chests

All with plumes upon their hats

All with stars upon their swords

From each hat dawn will break

From each sword the sun will rise

Garb yourself in iron, brother

Don't wear pure silver

Iron garb is fit for war

This is not a time for silver