The trees embracing, on my knees I fell
O God! I cried, grant all may be fulfilled!
Oh! may we, to our Fatherland restored,
When dwelling in our Litwa’s native fields,
Again revive to life; may leaves of hope
Again o’erdeck with green our destiny.
Let us return! consent! I rule the Order;
I will bid open. But what need commands?
For were this door a thousand times more hard
Than steel, I’d beat it down—I’d pluck it up;