In the shadowed lands where Carpathians rise,
Where hawks carve songs across ancient skies,
The Dacians thrived with spirits unbound,
Rooted deep in valor, fierce and profound.

Their voices were winds on mountains steep,
Their dreams a river’s silent sweep.
With eyes like flames, bold hearts entwined,
They stood as one, their fates aligned.

O, Children of Zalmoxis, wild and free,
Guardians fierce of land and tree—
Their blades struck swift as eagles soared,
For Dacia’s heart they lived and warred.

Among the pines and ironed soil,
They tilled the earth with sacred toil,
From silvery ores to the oak’s green shade,
With honor their lasting...