Limba Noastra


Limba noastr²-i o comoar²
In adīncuri īnfundat²
Un źirag de piatr² rap²
Pe moźie rev²rsat².
Limba noastra-i foc ce arde
Intr-un neam, ce f²r² veste
S-a trezit din somn de moarte
Ca viteazul din poveste.
Limba noastr²-i numai cīntec,
Doina dorurilor noastre,
Roi de fulgere, ce spintec
Nouri negri, z²ri albastre.
 
 
 
Limba noastr²-i graiul pīinii,
Cīnd de vīnt se miźc² vara;
In rostirea ei b²trīnii
Cu sudori sfinļit-au ļara.
Limba noastr²-i frunz² verde,
Zbuciumul din codrii veźnici,
Nistrul lin, ce-n valuri pierde
Ai luceferilor sfeźnici.
Nu veļi plīnge-atunci amarnic,
C² vi-i limba prea s²rac²,
Si-ļi vedea, cīt īi de darnic
Graiul ļ²rii noastre drag².
 
 
 
Limba noastr²-i vechi izvoade.
Povestiri din alte vremuri;
i citindu-le 'nźirate, -
Te-nfiori adīnc źi tremuri.
Limba noastr² īi aleas²
S² ridice slav²-n ceruri,
S² ne spiue-n hram źi-acas²
Veźnicele adev²ruri.
Limba noastr²-i limba sfīnt²,
Limba vechilor cazanii,
Care o plīng źi care o cīnt²
Pe la vatra lor ļ²ranii.
 
 
 
Inviaļi-v² dar graiul,
Ruginit de mult² vreme,
tergeļi slinul, mucegaiul
Al uit²rii 'n care geme.
Strīngeļi piatra lucitoare
Ce din soare se aprinde -
i-ļi avea īn revarsare
Un potop nou de cuvinte.
R²s²ri-va o comoar²
In adīncuri īnfundat²,
Un źirag de piatra r²r²
Pe moźie rev²rsat².
 

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English Translation

Our Tongue

A treasure is our tongue that surges
From deep shadows of the past,
Chain of precious stones that scattered
All over our ancient land.
A burning flame is our tongue
Amidst a people waking
From a deathly sleep, no warning,
Like the brave man of the stories.
Our tongue is made of songs
From our soul's deepest desires,
Flash of lighting striking swiftly
Through dark clouds and blue horizons.



Our tongue is the tongue of bread
When the winds blow through the summer,
Uttered by our forefathers who
Blessed the country through their labour.
Our tongue is the greenest leaf
Of the everlasting forests,
Gentle river Nistru's ripples
Hiding starlight bright and shining.
Utter no more bitter cries now
That your language is too poor,
And you will see with whatabundance
Flow the words of our precious country.



Our tongue is full of legends,
Stories from the days of old.
Reading one and then another
Makes one shudder, tremble and moan.
Our tongue is singled out
To lift praises up to heaven,
Uttering with constant fervour
Truths that never cease to beckon.
Our tongue is more than holy,
Words of homilies of old
Wept and sung perpetually
In the homesteads of our folks.



Resurrect now this our language,
Rusted through the years that have passed,
Wipe off filth and mould that gathered
When forgotten through our land.
Gather now the sparkling stone,
Catching bright light from the sun.
You will see the endless flooding
Of new words that overflow.
A treasure will spring up swiftly
From deep shadows of the past,
Chain of precious stones that scattered
All over our ancient land.



Adopted in 1994
Words by Alexei Mateevici
Music by Alexandru Cristi