letra de hymn to the son - isenburg
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lying on a ground full of entrails,
knowing it’s the last chance to feel your sword,
fighting hard and bleeding for your homeland.
no-one will say that your blood was spilled in vain.
they will sing a hymn to your glory,
carry your remains on defended ground.
blades will guide your march to your fathers.
we stand here sending you a last resounding hail!
i cross the sea and all my doubts vanish,
the hails behind fade to shades.
the eternal hall of my ancestors
opens the doors and welcomes the son.
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