Strike! Again! Again! Oh, heaven!

Why have you left your trusty sons?

One ... Three ... Five ... SEVEN!

Oh God! there was a thousand of us!

Enemy strikes. The skies are burning,

My heart is trembling in the rhythm of cannon's beat

And still some warriors are earning

A bullet into heart or head or feet...

They're moving forward, they don't wait,

Their Victory is almost done,

And like a slave who waits his fate

I'm sitting, gazing at this "fun".

And yes, my "farewell" has been said,

It really will not take a lot

To make a shot into my sinful head -

See, Lord, I was the one whom you forgot!