| This morning has been born — without light — dim — forlorn
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| A severe vault of clouds rushed across the open downs
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| Black gaunt and eerie tree — skeletons danced dreadfully
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| Tight in the claws of frost — winter showed it’s ghostly host
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| Artillery combat — flashing cannon fire — deafening sound
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| Approaching slowly — but unstoppable leaves burned ground
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| Nervously waiting in wretched ditches laid in ruins
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| The last instructional orders reached us a few hours ago
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| Now separated from allied troops assured to come
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| But there’s no more chance to flee from the superior enemy
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| Hell racing high speed bullet machine gun monotomy
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| Relinquishing position means to choose suzerainty
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| Just like an enormous thunderstorm war rules the entire killing zone
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| Below the scourge of madness and decay that burdensome commands the way
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| A sudden detonation to my left — fire screams — a ray of heat
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| Glowing splinters hailing down — cutting through irresistible flesh
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| A sweetly scented reek turns the air into a sick
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| Paralyzed breathing we undertook the last offence
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| Open fire — breaking through the hostile lines
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| Ravaging internecine assault
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| Crawling through the mud — terrified of the inevitable end
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| Our fate uncertain like that of a cutter in a storm
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| The nameless victims — whose faces are unknown to thee
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| Buried deep in the noman’s land’s mass graves
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| Open fire — breaking through the hostile lines
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| Ravaging internecine assault
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| Below the scourge of madness and decay we horribly passed away |