I (translation)

Open gates of wind, a whistle slowly crawling in

Locked winter, greened forests.

Black and white are blending secretly untwining time

The drop falls, splitting the rock,

The round dance starts to circle untwining waters; the strong ice

Which has long traveled, from the rocky mountain's heart;

A sign: the beginning of time. By itself. On the chosen path.

At the forest's heart, in the wind's whispering,

In the rock's shadow... a sculptured face on the heights of Ceahlau Mountain

Which, from icy ice, took the shape it had been given. Forever!

Pepper... through flames and fire, stormy... game;

Burned in fire, through embers and ashes, crossing beyond

Upwards on a faded path - that of the chosen path.

Kind-hearted brothers, rohmani! Coming from the real, from beyond Apa Simbetii,

Beyond Novac's furrow,

From the heart of the earth, in the mountains high,

The grayish mountains, and of the fir tree,

Fir tree... the brave!

In the mountains high, through the small firs, at the old sheepfold

Where the grass grows, interweaving four by four,

Stag of the defrosted realm, beast of the fields and of the earth, slowly descending...

The trees in his way they all bend their branches

His goading antlers like pearls

Swinging gait... towards the secret place - the path.

Stinging nettle sprouting, and blooming,

From the vastness of the world a law is taking shape

To utter the word, bluntly, and for all.

Law of the club and of the fear. True!

Furrowed bear chest,

By the Living Fire, from beyond Strimba Oilor

At the heart of the clearings, at the heart of the woods,

Its flame throws back, and from fire and blood

Green fir's bud, gobbled up, stained with blood... embodied... unchained.

From here, to where... beyond...

The path!