I was born in the woods of Kurland, Where river Venta flows through reeds. That's where I first saw the Sun, Before I snugged up to a girl's breast. In innocence, I plucked the flowers, In waves of Venta I threw them. The waves carried away my flowers, The harsh fate itself now carries me. Now I'm fighting on the Eastern front. All that I have is but noise. The noise of battle is now my song, The whistle of bullet- a girls voice. Now farewell You, my dear hearts, Never more shall my voice be heard. Because for Latvia's freedom and happiness, I sacrificed my youth. One has to die, so that hundreds may live, Only then can our Homeland flourish. And after the war, the ones still alive, Will begin to rebuild Latvia again. A Larvian legion song performed by the Daugava's Hawks (Latvian community in exile. Many were former legionnaires) in Canada men choir.
I was born in the woods of Kurland,
Where river Venta flows through reeds.
That's where I first saw the Sun,
Before I snugged up to a girl's breast.
In innocence, I plucked the flowers,
In waves of Venta I threw them.
The waves carried away my flowers,
The harsh fate itself now carries me.
Now I'm fighting on the Eastern front.
All that I have is but noise.
The noise of battle is now my song,
The whistle of bullet- a girls voice.
Now farewell You, my dear hearts,
Never more shall my voice be heard.
Because for Latvia's freedom and happiness,
I sacrificed my youth.
One has to die, so that hundreds may live,
Only then can our Homeland flourish.
And after the war, the ones still alive,
Will begin to rebuild Latvia again.
A Larvian legion song performed by the Daugava's Hawks (Latvian community in exile. Many were former legionnaires) in Canada men choir.