There is a land so far away
A land of many days
Though small, it has a staying power
Enduring conquests' craze
Hard centuries of strife and woe
Long bled it with sharp spears
Defending it, we spilled our lives
In native rivers' tears
Its people kept a song alive
And called it Kalev's son
A hero keeping hope alive
When all was bombs and guns
The day came when this little land
Was freed from cruel whips
And olden, secret, hidden dreams
Now sounded from all lips
It took a chorus of the brave
Who had but one great song
Created from the sounds of pain
A revolution strong
It's good to hail from that small place
Where people shun all force
Who'd rather find their freedom's shore
With God as their one source
There is a land so far away
A land of many days
Though small, it has a staying power
Enduring conquests' craze.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem