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(ENG):
Land of our fathers, with joy we thee greet,
Garden by eternal snows held safe,
Dreamily at the darkening forest's feet
Peaceful villages by a sunny lake.
When at the smithy the hammers do pound,
Or the plough be grasped by sinewy hand,
|: Land of our fathers, cheers to thee resound:
Salzburg, oh Salzburg, my native land! :|
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