Lusatia, beautiful,
Gracious, dutiful,
Land of Sorbian forebears’ toil,
Land of dreams, resplendent soil,
Sacred are to me thy pastures.

May thy future be
Blooming joyously!
Oh, may from thy womb appear
People that the world holds dear,
Worthy of eternal memory!

Battles hotly fought,
Wars of iron wrought,
Our forebears proudly sang.
Words of war songs loudly rang.
Who will now tell us their stories?

Once the black god’s land,
Ancient creed’s last stand,
Now a raven’s perch is there,
Ancient moss on rocks once bare,
Altars for our forebears’ worship.