In the echo of time, footsteps can be heard,
of people who changed the world,
in the depths of centuries, years merged into each other,
Forgotten are their names — no memory of another.
Deeds carved in the stone of castles and temples,
thee tell about these deeds magnificent balades,
they were not destroyed by rain, the ravages of time, a strong windy gust,
they did not disappear from the memory of the Slovak people, like a last sigh from the chest.
The virtues of our ancestors were shaped by dragons, witches ,
legendary Sword Samoseč, Vratko and the sages,
the Divine discernment between good and evil was found at effort,
they had to live it, Janko, Maruška — words did not help, without effort they suffered.
And whoever did not find the Divine discernment, the virtues punished them,
pride, malice, or salt disappearing from the kingdom,
it does not matter whether with a crown or a shepherd’s cloak on meadows of green,
before they did correction in their path, they experience only sufferin`.
Only a virtuous hero could become a strong king,
who passed the tests, in the sweat of his face subdued the worlds concquering,
wisdom, perseverance, and also humility, were his family,
there were no obstacles for him to overcome in the wide world of his destiny.
Princesses by birth or by spirit embroidered, painted, wove wreaths, created beauty with their hands,
they were able to feed the souls of menwith their eyes, lips in a smiles,
their breasts created descendants of heroes, born in the light of heavenly brightness,
their meadows bloomed with lavender, daisies, roses.
Centuries ago, tinkers and masons walked the world,
walked through the lands they called our piece of land,
today parents whisper their wisdom to their children at the time of sleep,
the wisdom of heroes and their virtues from fairytales in the souls of children slumbers deep.
Rise up under the flag with the double cross on the three hills,
rise up heroes who have returned from the Sitno flames,
rise up, tear down the spell, that keeps a dark stain on the Soul,
be once again a roar, gushing from under the stone.
Wander into the dreams of our children and also every of their deed untold,
your light is needed to improve this world,
toward conscience and love, show a piece of your path,
may your destiny and the path with our destiny and path make a wreath.
On the castle tower flies a flag embroidered in gold,
A Slavic symbol, uniting our Nation for thousands of long years,
The heroes below stand in a silent crowd with princesses, like a smiling river,
ancestors from the fairy tales of our childhood, the light of our world, whose legacy changes the world.
31th of August 2025
Miroslav
P.S. The original Poem is Rozprávka – Miroslav Sagan | osobný blog , this is translated and rhymed by the author, so everyone, who speaks english can understand more about Slovakia and its people.