| Lay his sword by his side
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| Let it based in a dead hand.
|
| It specified a way the enemy
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| Also converged with it in fight.
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| Let lay together under the ground…
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| But I hear — from darkness death
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| Impassioned whisper, as an echo of the one,
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| Who lifted armies on fight.
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| Whose shout fighting was carried
|
| Above battlefield as a thunder
|
| Who a lightning in fight aspired…
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| Do not put my sword in a tomb
|
| From to us I’m mortal only
|
| It, as earlier, aspires in fight
|
| And it’s handle is hot.
|
| Kind my sword!
|
| Revive in a glorious hand.
|
| Continue to kill and to sparkle.
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| Also enter for freedom,
|
| As together with me In fight by a lighting terrible be!
|
| Glorious warrior feasts in heavenly
|
| He pours foamy honey hall
|
| And sword flares fire in worthy hands
|
| Conducts hosts on fight again. |