We ride into the fields
Upon horses’ backs
With newly forged swords
Raised high up
And polished shields
And flags with words of
Hasty wisdom crafted onto it
While our eyes focused
On the enemies’
That left them trembling with fear
We ride into the battle
Wounding our way through
Everyone else around us
On the other side of the hill lies the enemy
I command my riders nothing but this-
“Behind the hill lies glory and our
One chance for honour
Take it. It’s all yours! ”
With that came the roar of
A thousand angry approving voices
We ride,
Heads held high
With fear naught at heart
We ride to death
But a merry one
Becuz, we die for our land,
Our people and what we believe in
Death is not as awful as it may seem
It is quick. A little painful, but
Gives you freedom from everything else
You’ve been tied to,
Gives you immortality
And leads you to
The doors of heaven
What more can a low-life
Peasant like me ask for..?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem