Mi-am adus aminte de acest cantec, il ascultam si-l cantam cu emotie cand eram copil.
Limba Noastră - Cetatea (Alexei Mateevici lyrics)
"Our language is a treasure
Buried in deep abysms
A rosary of rare stones
Scattered upon our ancient land.
Our language is fire that burns
In the heart of a people, which suddenly
Awoke from death-like slumber
Like heroes from fairy tales.
Our language is pure music,
Doina vibrating with passion,
Swarm of thunders, that burst through
Black clouds and blue skies.
Our language is the voice of bread,
Swinged in summer by the wind,
By speaking it our elders
With their sweat sanctified our lands.
Our language is the green of leaves,
Sounds from the eternal forests,
The gentle Nistru, that in its waves
Loses evening stars' candles.
You shall not cry with deep sorrow
For the poverty of your mother tongue,
You will see, how deeply generous is
The tongue of our beloved land.
Our language is ancient chronicles,
Tales from times lo