WHEN ŪSIŅŠ RIDES

Hey Northern folk, can you hear them sing?
The very first birds and blooms of spring
The ice breaks on the rivers deep
Mother Earth is waking from her sleep

The Sky's wide open to the horizon
One wants to run and shout for joy!
Beyond the hills the trumpets sound
As Ūsiņš rides and shakes the ground

Over heavens' hill, on a palfrey white
Over meadows green with spring's delight
He brings the warmth of the summer sun
Each year it happens when Ūsiņš rides again

For white-robed priests, the time is now
To go to sacred forests where God's oaks grow
There fires are lit and songs are sung
"Your children await you, Ūsiņš divine one!"