1
Fly away on wings of the wind
To our native land, you, native song of ours,
There, where we were singing you freely,
Where we felt so free with you.
2
There, under the hot sky,
The air is full of bliss,
There under the murmur of the sea
The mountains doze in the clouds
3
There the sun shines so brightly,
Flooding the native mountains with light,
Roses are blossoming fluffyly in the valleys,
And nightingales are singing in the green forests.
[And sweet grapes grows.]
[You are more free there, song,]
[Fly there]