Where are you now, our native forestland
Where wild is spanned,
Where woods are in bloom,
Where there is no doom,
Where grass under trees is being tramped with my unicorns hoof,
Where forest dwarves're living under the ground
Winged horses are flying through the white cloud
Centaures have stables to train and [bad word] 
And I am being waited at home?
Motherland,
Forestland,
Where are you, motherland, nativeland without gloam?
Where great dragons are flying near rock holes,
Elven arrows are ordered to save souls, [bad word] and nightingales are with harps near the streams
Singing the glory for earth,
And the forests are growing much faster -
Here's a help of the unicorn-caster,
And the magic of evil can't be spread,
And this land is forever undead?
Where are you now, native land?