And if humanity should seem like skies aglow with stars,
Then let the Czechs be known as the flaming, mighty Mars.
Fly high, you joyous flag of streaming crimson red,
And like the Spartans once, swarmed in their garb of war,
So let the Czechs stand firm with swords besmeared with gore.
You lead us on, go forth, smite our enemies’ bared head.
Fly high, you waving flag of spotless milky white,
Our forefathers’ proud eagle who rules the airy height.
And let the flowers bloom beneath your waving hand
For this nation is as just as the Gods upon their stand.
Destiny, give us struggles, for our heroes true to bear,
But then let the morning follow, sparkingly fresh and fair,
And let the sun leap forth and flood the Czech’s domain.
Let there come days of peace and roses bloom again.
AND WHAT I WAS, THAT I WAS GLAD TO BE
Why should I grumble at my Fate, and be sad
Because Fate used me as a bouncing ball,
That it patted me, or whipped me till I’d fall,
That it made much of me, either good or bad
From a humble question to a proud reply,
I fell a hundred times and rose with glee.
Many a role in God’s wide world played I,
And what I was, that I was glad to be.
Fate placed me in a hardworn, narrow crib,
And sewed a patch upon my humble cloak.
To still my tears, floods of new tears it woke
And held me short, by stabbing at my rib.
Yet all about me, base pride reached high
Hence to lash the pampered sons I then felt free.
Many a role in God’s wide world played I,
And what I was, that I was glad to be.
Then to my poverty Fate added strength,
And with on even stride I measured life,
Each day, each year, I grew more strong with strife.
From boy to manhood I attained at length,
Humble in asking, haughty in reply,
And none would dare to taunt or humble me.
Many a role in God’s wide world played I,
And what I was, that I was glad to be.
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