Poem by Maironis
The Nemunas flows in strong repose
And waters our native soil.
Birute's song in our brother's tongue
Can lighten the ploughman's toil.
As our rivers cross the eternal strand,
So shall our songs resound in every land.
Where the jewels gleam, where the rue is green
And graces a maiden's wreath,
Where the cuckoo's cry fills the forest high,
Our cottages stand on the heath.
Where the rue blooms and speckled birds rejoice,
There our mother awaits the wonderer's voice.

When the sun of spring scatters shades from the ling,
When the hay meets the reeper's hand,
When the stubble-corn is all cold and torn –
Ever fair is our native land.
In winter's snows, in summer's ecstasy,
None is dearer, lovelier than thee.

In the sun's bright rays or in clouded days
Our heart returns to our home,
Where our fathers rest and their memory is blest,
Where our sweat has watered the loam.
In joy and hardship, quietude and strife,
Be the land beloved more than life.

There the boyars rode to their Prince's abode
And made the Teuton flee.
Our homage is due and our hearts are true
To the land of our liberty.
In her cause our fathers strove and bled,
In her cause our blood shall yet be shed.

May the Lord of grace defend the place
Where the bones of our ancestors lie.
May Thy powerful hand protect the land
Where Thy children suffer and die.
Shed still upon our home Thy mercy's light;
Still hear us, Lord of everlasting might.

Translated by Rafael Sealey
(Contributed by daniel on Wednesday, April 6th, 2011)
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Lithuanian Literature

Baltic Literature

European Literature