Se gnoriso apo tin kopsi,
Tou spathiou tin tromeri,
Se gnoriso apo tin opsi,
Pou me via metra tin yi.
Ap' ta kokala vialmeni,
Ton Ellinon ta iera,
Ke san prota andriomeni,
Haire, o haire, Eleftheria!
 

I shall always recognise you
By the dreadful sword you hold,
As the earth, with searching vision,
You survey, with spirit bold.
'Twas the Greeks of old whose dying
Brought to birth our spirit free.
Now, with ancient valour rising,
Let us hail you, oh Liberty!