Crave the blood of our grands
Consumed by eternal haze
Left the path of roaring ties
Led by ancient signs
Sorrow lies
See the lightning's magic glare
Fire, water, earth and air
Sow the seeds to our land
Reaped by honoured men
Mourning fens to memorize
Joy of balmy-granted suns
Pride… and sorrow dies
Fill the mead on our lips
Hail and sing to send away…
Away the weeps!
And shame as curse on our hands
Buried by voracious sands
Heft the burden of our sins
Led by weird wins
Now we bleed
Seal the hightning's tragic dull
Colour, grimed by human hull
Row the weeds of our land
Awoken by indebted men
Duty calls to vitalize
Joy of balmy-granted suns
Pride… and sorrow dies
Fill the mead on our lips
Send away the worthless weeps
The weeps of our orphaned kind
We'd forgot about pride
But fylfot flies in bloodied skies
Inundated souls rise!
And sorrow dies…
