Run through the fields, take the pitchforks Shield yourself from the wind, from the baleful word Of the time passing by carrying Fear and destruction... gods run with me
Thin arms but strong like oxes Take brave warriors underground Their wives locked in their homes harvest in futile prayers Praying for theri children unaware of their paths
Miracolous child!
Run run women take away your children Death attends you, stay nearby Ravens on your way lengthen your path The death your companion, is mother of your cry
The forks of your land are now gravestones The seeds of your crops are now lost souls Your forks like crosses, your tears like rain The lives still standing are children of the pain
Echo of Christians prayers in the wind Left in the memory of the poets children Seek salvation to their god And the wise poet children thank death that took them