Slanias Song

The woods are silent
The mountains are sleeping
The rivers are frozen
The glens are silent
To the high Alps
To the fields of the plain
To the hills of the yew trees

The bards are singing
The stones are calling
The spirits are whispering
The woods are trembling
The ancient ways are returning
The hearts are crying
The stars are shining

To the east, my lord
To the west, my brother!
From the heights, the truth is calling
The stones are singing
The spirits are whispering

Oh gentle flowers, may you live
Oh my land, oh my Helvetia!

To the mountains and the valleys
To the kings, the warriors
To the brave men
In the circle of the sword
In the depths of the woods
Sing with me