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LATVIAN RIFLEMEN

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Riflemen – the loudest scream
Of nation choked for 700 years
The secretly ground knife
That cut ropes to make breathe free

At midnights ghastly and blind
By Veisi, by Iecava, Sloka and Smārde
In the Tīrelis swamps
Pale as ghosts you went to die

Proud Riflemen, you guys from
Latvian meadows and forests

All day and night beside the river Jugla
Mad and black like casted in cast-iron
You stood against the predominance
Of German guardsmen

Dry and thirsty lips
Of dirty Russian streets
You kissed with your blood -
Just for freedom

Guys from Nordeķi
Zvaigžņu and Rēveles streets

I see in the nightly sky
Where clouds are digging the moon
Regiment after regiment comes in the time
Of kingdom to come

They are Riflemen who are no more
And who will never be again
But their everlasting glory
Will keep the nation like burning flag
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