Lyrics

Through the valleys we wandered, Erdély in the light,
Stories of the land, in every shadow's flight,
In coal smoke's gentle embrace, dreams of old ignite,
Hear the whispers in the mountains, as day turns to night.

Hands that shape the land, with stories untold,
In the heart of Transylvania, where legends unfold.

Hit the trail through Székely land,
Breathing history's eager command.
Voices of coal burners rise
Echoing through the mountain skies.
Laci shows with pride untamed,
Ancient craft, their souls unclaimed.

The hands that shape this restless land,
Through fire and soil they firmly stand.
Tradition and strength, hearts untamed,
A tapestry of lives ingrained.

Visited shepherds, cheese in hand,
Stories of old echo in this band.
Homemade mitts by the fire we sit,
Smoke mingling memories bit by bit.

The hands that shape this restless land,
Through fire and soil they firmly stand.
Tradition and strength, hearts untamed,
A tapestry of lives ingrained.

Among the trees where shadows blend,
Ancestral spirits, hearts unbend.
Our steps retraced on this sacred strand,
In Erdély’s grip, we find our stand.

The hands that shape this restless land,
Through fire and soil they firmly stand.
Tradition and strength, hearts untamed,
A tapestry of lives ingrained.

Up in the mountains where the smoke dances thin,
We found the hands crafting coal, wild spirits akin.
Laci showed us secrets of the fiery mounds,
Each step filled with peril, as the earth stirs and bounds.
With shepherd’s stories lingering in evening tales,
We shared laughs and mitts, their aroma that prevails.

In the heart of Erdély's land,
These hands that shape, understand.
Stories carved in soil and air,
A history that none can compare.

We watched cheese taking form in shepherded care,
Milky whispers set dreams in the twilight flare.
A village voice sang tales, harmonies afar,
While turkeys roamed free, beneath the evening star.
With each chapter laid in Székely stone,
Memories brewed in ancient tone.

In the heart of Erdély's land,
These hands that shape, understand.
Stories carved in soil and air,
A history that none can compare.

These tales hung in silence, with whispers bold,
In Transylvania’s arms, where history unfolds.

In the heart of Erdély's land,
These hands that shape, understand.
Stories carved in soil and air,
A history that none can compare.