Boleslav Jablonský

“ For as long as Bohemians sing,
Their national life cannot take wing.
Go wander all over our land,
Over valley and wood-crowned hill,
There’s not a place without a band,
Or song, like a mountain rill. ”

“ Imbuing with new life their torpid hearts.
Gladly they heard the call. Awake! arise!
Sing praises in your churches and your marts.
Awake! arise! all ye that slumber still!
The day is dawning see the light breaks through.
The nightingales are singing—wherefore sleep? ”