| March on! |
| Conquer and take no slaves!
|
| For we are here to get back knowledge
|
| That has been taken away from us long time ago
|
| That has been stolen from us by pigs who named themselves prophets
|
| «Here, where a hero fell, a column falls!
|
| Here, where the mimic eagle glared in gold
|
| A midnight vigil holds the swarthy bat!
|
| Here, where the dames of Rome their gilded hair
|
| (Waved to the wind, now wave the reed and thistle!
|
| Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled)
|
| Glides, spectre-like, unto his marble home
|
| Lit by the wan light of the horned moon
|
| The swift and silent lizard of the stones!» |
| *
|
| March on! |
| Conquer and take no slaves!
|
| For we are here to get back knowledge
|
| That has been taken away from us long time ago
|
| That has been stolen from us by pigs who named themselves prophets
|
| Rise! |
| Like Phoenix from the ashes
|
| Live! |
| According to your thoughts
|
| Think! |
| There is no God or Satan…
|
| Die! |
| As Phoenix then reborn!
|
| March on! |
| Conquer and take no slaves!
|
| For we are here to get back knowledge
|
| That has been taken away from us long time ago
|
| That has been stolen from us by pigs who named themselves prophets
|
| «We rule the hearts of mightiest men — we rule
|
| With a despotic sway all giant minds
|
| We are not impotent — we pallid stones
|
| Not all our power is gone — not all our fame
|
| Not all the magic of our high renown
|
| Not all the wonder that encircles us
|
| Not all the mysteries that in us lie
|
| Not all the memories that hang upon
|
| And cling around about us as a garment
|
| Clothing us in a robe of more than glory.» |
| * |