Soon, soon, you will see the wondrous sight,
fierce conflict. And you will see,
There will be battles in the heart of your abode.
To destroy you, my sword has been sharpened.
We have marched by night, to cut and slaughter,
By the knife of revenge is a road for whoever is suitable,
With the specters of night and the young men of terror,
And an explosion of woe, that he may be defeated.
You have begun to fight me with the ally of shelter,
So taste my curse when it has fired up.
You will remain for a while, and you will suffer in my war.
With what will you meet a youth made mighty?
When the horse has roamed, raised its head, and leaped forth,
Thus it has [bad word] a lighted blaze,
The bullets blaze, the revenge [bad word] 
So where is the escape from the sparks of the mortals?
We [bad word] to you with slaughter and death.
With fright and silence we will tear the bonds.
You have failed publicly, so taste loss.
And return in flight, under cover of night.
When disbelief has agitated, frothed, and stirred up,
We have filled the roads with red blood.
With the darkness of bayonets, with the striking of the necks,
To heap up the dogs when they marshal.
We [bad word]  we [bad word]  we have marched with determination.
In earnest we have striven to ascend the peaks.
We embark on the deaths, we close ranks.
We die standing, as lions of courage.