Arrival of the Czechs

WHERE Tatar mountains to the skies Above all pine-clad hills arise, Where Visla’s streams are roll’d; There finds the mountain-region place, The cradle of the Czeskish race, Thence came the Czechs of old.

They’ve cross’d three rivers on their road, An eagle shew’d the will of God, Up to the hills their guide; While he on high doth hovering go Leads Czech the people down below, Where the green plain is wide.

He westward with the sun doth go, When soft Šumawa’s breezes blow, To Labe’s streams they come; Amidst the land he stands and calls, He kneels, the tear in gladness falls, He kisses the new home.

Calls to his brethren “Woodlands clear, Make ploughs, and gardens soon appear, Aids Radihost the while; Forth from the ground spring golden ears, With them a golden age appears, And Swantowit doth smile.”

Therefore with pious zeal that burns To sacred Rzip his steps he turns, To praise Perun on high; For prosperous times he prays and fair, For fame—the people gather’d there Doth “Long live Czechia!” cry.