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My sight is a blurred skyline |
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The blue stream its head inclines |
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Doubt's river-like |
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Made with cold blood |
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My will's the dyke |
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That stops the flood |
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When anguish grows |
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It overflows so slow |
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When I have just done my best |
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I say: Alea jacta est |
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I've made up my mind |
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With my troops behind |
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The eagles are shadowing the west! |
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I see the river |
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And know I have to cross |
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Waters carries past with them |
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Never coming back yet |
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A bitter stone like round distress |
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Suddenly I take and toss |
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Gushes flow with scum light red |
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Omen of a fast end |
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When I have just done my best |
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I say: Alea jacta est |
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I've made up my mind |
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With my troops behind |
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The eagles are shadowing the west! |
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Doubt! |
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After reflecting I shout: |
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Eagles of the war, march on! |
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Water hasn't got return when it is gone |
