| An old failure is redressed
|
| Barred is all sight into the West
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| Not to let us foresee what is brewing there
|
| Ripple
|
| Silence is deceptive
|
| Hooves of iron paw
|
| An ancient silent fog
|
| To blur our castles' silhouettes
|
| To hide the gathering troops
|
| Black fleets explore the northern lines
|
| Fifty forts along the Rhine
|
| Fuming clefts cross Westphalia
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| Command from Castra Vetera
|
| It was late at night when the bugle call resounded
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| And blew forth a red storm
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| To bear squadrons of Southern aggressors
|
| Transcending our silent banks now so rageous
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| Ploughing the valleys in slobbering droves
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| Foes in Sugambria!
|
| The ancient map is redrawn in blood
|
| Led by our once insurmountable waters
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| We learnt that war has become art
|
| Within three years of suffering and barbarism
|
| Lamentamur Germaniam Inferiorem!
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| The Northern eyesight is extinguished
|
| The Western limbs are dead
|
| The Southern torso is crippled
|
| East cannot defend |