The shadow of your war-torn days 
When your mountains echoed your battle song 
Troubles the peace you live to praise. 
 
Amid your red sun's muted rays 
One can hardly see, though he linger long, 
The shadow of your war-torn days. 
 
But one who knows your ancient ways 
Feels how it chills your sober throng, 
Troubles the peace you live to praise. 
 
And even now a swift hand slays 
If reason calls up, to right some wrong, 
The shadow of your war-torn days. 
 
Your wise man neither weeps nor plays, 
For the slightest straying from straight and strong 
Troubles the peace you live to praise. 
 
Oh, noble race, your hearts ablaze 
With the truth-search you've carried so far along, 
The shadow of your war-torn days 
Troubles the peace you live to praise.
 
 |