Beautiful Kolozsvar, Matyas King’s pride
Cannot be, No, Never! Olahland’s ornament!
Banat mustn’t crop bread for Serbia!
Hungarian wind will blow over the Carpathians!
When the time comes – the graves will open,
When the time comes – hungarians will stand up,
When the time comes – our arm will be strong,
Wait for us brothers, We will there, we won’t let you!
We will run forward with great anger,
We will paint a cross on the landmark with blood
And we’ll ride down everything!
That will be the triuph!
We will face against the gates of Hell!
We rush bellowing then, like the flow,
We will fight till’ the last drop of blood
and the Hungarian border will stand still
The whole of it. Like not so long ago.
And our star will shine on the sky again.
Our flag is flaming, our sword is flashing,
Sons of bitches running away from us,
because we are hungarians!
Our wrathful word reaches the skies:
We want our motherland!
Or we die for it.
Our land won’t be smaller, no, not with an inch
You will shine like long time ago.
A shout is running across
the Hungarian mountains and plains:
We wont let Never!
Never, Arpad’s country!