In history lot when swords spoke,

When sweet music was the battle horns,

Thy enemies’ blood, was it truth or joke?

Unbearable pain with a piercing thorns!

 

Let the dove fly and call upon my ally.

Bring forth ye soldiers with spears and axes.

In battle, to choose side with who I can rely,

Ye soldiers and ye foe clashes.

 

Let lose enemies head from their body,

And when last enemy kisses my sword,

In the purple hazel night let floor be bloody,

Among the ferocious army praising the lord.

 

Drums and hymns be heard in land distant

Let mortal know, the victory in an instant