Torn by sacred trees placed on the white stone by the oldest man of her people here is were we come to pray the smell of blood and smoke it spreads through the forest a thousand horns sounds in salute to the new king.
In the eyes of the druid, a sacred fire burns eternally. He can see inside the woods, the Golden Age over this land. For over a thousand years the Gods had protected us our Mother gave animals with forests and sacred rivers.
Ancestral towers beyond the forest, the pillars of (the) Universe the Pantheon of the oldest Gods which now rest in their golden thrones.
Threatened by the arrival of the invader more than one thousand sons of Nur gave their lives to defend the great sacred temples that someday will arise in the light of the Gods.