On this hill where blows the wind | |
Some children are standing | |
Feelings seems to be so cold | |
In their deep blue eyes | |
Why so strong | |
They are the children | |
Of a perpetual sun | |
Their will is nothing else to fight | |
The decline of their daughters | |
Through this secret thing that is time | |
Don't forget your will and your honour | |
If one day the clouds are grey | |
Maybe that your acts are to revise | |
Gods let's play the chess, Again |