Little field, my field | |
Little field, my wide field | |
Yes, heroes marched on that field | |
Forgotten, temporary heroes | |
The wind scattered them | |
Yes, on that green field | |
It scattered their bold songs | |
Forgotten, temporary songs | |
All they have left | |
Is their reputation in war | |
And dusty roads | |
Roads that lead into the distance | |
Little field, my field | |
It has seen a lot of suffering | |
It earned its daily bread with blood | |
Forgotten, temporary blood |