| On a mountain top | |
| By a clear wellspring | |
| Laima weaves fate | |
| Plaiting the thread | |
| A golden spinning-wheel runs under her feet | |
| Who will live and who will die | |
| Where joy will be heard and where tears will be shed | |
| One thread is long, the other is short | |
| As she decides, so shall she weave | |
| A cuckoo calls from a tree | |
| Behind the window a young lady is weeping: | |
| - "If only Laima would give me a son I would nurse and fondle him as best as I could!" | |
| Don't cry young lady – Laima already knows | |
| She weaves fate, plaiting the thread | |
| For soon there will be time for a hero to come | |
| For a hero to come and start his story | |
| In your dream you will see what must be done | |
| Catch a pike-fish, gut it and boil it | |
| She who will eat that pike | |
| Will soon become pregnant | |
| Half man, half beast – the mare will bear a son | |
| Like flint, like steel – undefeatable! | |
| But everything will happen as Laima has decreed | |
| There will be three who eat that pike | |
| A son born from a lady, another from a maidservant | |
| But loudest cried third one in the white mare's stable | |
| Half man, half beast – the mare will bear a son | |
| Like flint, like steel – undefeatable! | |
| They will become like brothers | |
| But one will be above them all | |
| Not by years, but by days he will grow | |
| Kurbads - son of the mare he will be called | |
| No work will be too hard for him | |
| On the third year they send him to hunt | |
| On the seventh he boldly lifts his sword | |
| He will roll boulders like they were peas | |
| He's Kurbads - son of the mare |
| On a mountain top | |
| By a clear wellspring | |
| Laima weaves fate | |
| Plaiting the thread | |
| A golden spinningwheel runs under her feet | |
| Who will live and who will die | |
| Where joy will be heard and where tears will be shed | |
| One thread is long, the other is short | |
| As she decides, so shall she weave | |
| A cuckoo calls from a tree | |
| Behind the window a young lady is weeping: | |
| " If only Laima would give me a son I would nurse and fondle him as best as I could!" | |
| Don' t cry young lady Laima already knows | |
| She weaves fate, plaiting the thread | |
| For soon there will be time for a hero to come | |
| For a hero to come and start his story | |
| In your dream you will see what must be done | |
| Catch a pikefish, gut it and boil it | |
| She who will eat that pike | |
| Will soon become pregnant | |
| Half man, half beast the mare will bear a son | |
| Like flint, like steel undefeatable! | |
| But everything will happen as Laima has decreed | |
| There will be three who eat that pike | |
| A son born from a lady, another from a maidservant | |
| But loudest cried third one in the white mare' s stable | |
| Half man, half beast the mare will bear a son | |
| Like flint, like steel undefeatable! | |
| They will become like brothers | |
| But one will be above them all | |
| Not by years, but by days he will grow | |
| Kurbads son of the mare he will be called | |
| No work will be too hard for him | |
| On the third year they send him to hunt | |
| On the seventh he boldly lifts his sword | |
| He will roll boulders like they were peas | |
| He' s Kurbads son of the mare |
| On a mountain top | |
| By a clear wellspring | |
| Laima weaves fate | |
| Plaiting the thread | |
| A golden spinningwheel runs under her feet | |
| Who will live and who will die | |
| Where joy will be heard and where tears will be shed | |
| One thread is long, the other is short | |
| As she decides, so shall she weave | |
| A cuckoo calls from a tree | |
| Behind the window a young lady is weeping: | |
| " If only Laima would give me a son I would nurse and fondle him as best as I could!" | |
| Don' t cry young lady Laima already knows | |
| She weaves fate, plaiting the thread | |
| For soon there will be time for a hero to come | |
| For a hero to come and start his story | |
| In your dream you will see what must be done | |
| Catch a pikefish, gut it and boil it | |
| She who will eat that pike | |
| Will soon become pregnant | |
| Half man, half beast the mare will bear a son | |
| Like flint, like steel undefeatable! | |
| But everything will happen as Laima has decreed | |
| There will be three who eat that pike | |
| A son born from a lady, another from a maidservant | |
| But loudest cried third one in the white mare' s stable | |
| Half man, half beast the mare will bear a son | |
| Like flint, like steel undefeatable! | |
| They will become like brothers | |
| But one will be above them all | |
| Not by years, but by days he will grow | |
| Kurbads son of the mare he will be called | |
| No work will be too hard for him | |
| On the third year they send him to hunt | |
| On the seventh he boldly lifts his sword | |
| He will roll boulders like they were peas | |
| He' s Kurbads son of the mare |
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