This word, like an enchanted meal, gathered our people around itself and made us friends, united us and, thanks to this word, we became a whole.

Türkmen, the name of our nation.

Our fathers consecrated this word as a flag and they fought bravely against its greatest enemies. This word was an inseparable comrade to them even when they fell, a spear lodged in their breasts.

Feelings of duty and responsibility and action underlie the love of the nation.

Our nation prevented deviations from unity and collaboration even in severe conditions by the saying, “Do not leave your nation even if you are killed.” One feels sorrow for the peoples of the world who have not yet achieved nationhood; and one feels twice that sorrow for those who leave the path of the nation and consider this great idea, the nation, to be merely the detritus of history.

Our nation is the greatest source of pride to us! We live to fulfil our due to this great word; even if we die, we desire to die as Türkmens.

If you live a wretched and dissolute life, whether near or far away, they do not say, “That man is like that,” but they say, “That nation is like that.”

If you live an honourable and excellent life, whether near or far away, they say, “That man is Türkmen! They are the nation that directed the course of history.”

Türkmens! The mud thrown at you is also thrown at me; and my cleanness, my brightness is also yours.

Türkmens! All my love is for you; all the pain is for me.