Limba Noastra
Geschreven door Alexandru Christi met tekst van Alexei Mateevici.
De tekst, in Roemeens en Engels, volgt na het voorbeeld.
Dit is sinds 1994 het officiële volkslied van Moldavië.
Written by Alexandru Christi with text by Alexei Mateevici.
The text, both in Romanian and English, follows after the sample.
This is since 1994 the official anthem of Moldova.
Românä
Limba noastra-i o comoara
In adîncuri înfundata
Un sirag de piatra rapa
Pe mosie revarsata.
Limba noastra-i foc ce arde
Intr-un neam, ce fara veste
S-a trezit din somn de moarte
Ca viteazul din poveste.
Limba noastra-i numai cîntec,
Doina dorurilor noastre,
Roi de fulgere, ce spintec
Nouri negri, zari albastre.
Limba noastra-i graiul pîinii,
Cînd de vînt se misca vara;
In rostirea ei batrînii
Cu sudori sfintit-au ïara.
Limba noastra-i frunza verde,
Zbuciumul din codrii vesnici,
Nistrul lin, ce-n valuri pierde
Ai luceferilor sfesnici.
Nu veti plînge-atunci amarnic,
Ca vi-i limba prea saraca,
Si-ti vedea, cît îi de darnic
Graiul tarii noastre draga.
Limba noastra-i vechi izvoade.
Povestiri din alte vremuri;
Si citindu-le 'nsirate, -
Te-nfiori adînc si tremuri.
Limba noastra îi aleasa
Sa ridice slava-n ceruri,
Sa ne spiue-n hram si-acasa
Vesnicele adevaruri.
Limba noastra-i limba sfînta,
Limba vechilor cazanii,
Care o plîng si care o cînta
Pe la vatra lor taranii.
Inviati-va dar graiul,
Ruginit de multa vreme,
Stergeti slinul, mucegaiul
Al uitarii 'n care geme.
Strîngeti piatra lucitoare
Ce din soare se aprinde -
Si-ti avea în revarsare
Un potop nou de cuvinte.
Rasari-va o comoara
In adîncuri înfundata,
Un sirag de piatra rara
Pe mosie revarsata.
English
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 tongu
Amidst a people wakin
From a deathly sleep, no warning
Like the brave man of the stories
Our tongue is made of song
From our soul's deepest desires
Flash of lighting striking swiftl
Through dark clouds and blue horizons.
Our tongue is the tongue of brea
When the winds blow through the summer
Uttered by our forefathers wh
Blessed the country through their labour
Our tongue is the greenest lea
Of the everlasting forests
Gentle river Nistru's ripple
Hiding starlight bright and shining
Utter no more bitter cries no
That your language is too poor
And you will see with what abundanc
Flow the words of our precious country
Our tongue is full of legends
Stories from the days of old
Reading one and then anothe
Makes one shudder, tremble and moan
Our tongue is singled ou
To lift praises up to heaven
Uttering with constant fervou
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.