Ne Cheama Pamintul

So I go down to you, deceived souls
To burn your grief, you are unhappy spirits
Curse prize.
Suppose, as a red-hot iron branding cattle,
Smashing my anger will burn bloody claw
Brand on your forehead.

Oh, that anger as a hot key playing,
In burned your veins blood boiled alive,
Let him for a moment!
Living corpses! That you can carry away the deed?
What a thought il dwindling sense of spirit was troubled,
To a flame in you appeared?

See - ashes revived, since broken urn
Sound old clique belligerently and violently -
Rome then spoke.
The shadow of the great men stand ready to fight,
Trojan and Julius Caesar crowned head
Come out of the graves.

Break the chains of slavery, broken crown.
Hour had come! In a sea of ​​anger and scepters and thrones
Rampant flying.
Clearwisdom people get up from sleep vospryanuv,
And stinking little soul overthrow tyrants
Meets howling hell.

So Farewell, holy, I bow to you, dreamer,
What in the waves looking for songs that ruled the starry choir
Of empty and dirty life tricked gentle ringing
We all turns to dust, our bodies, our meal.
Geniuses, fools, majesty, meanness, light, soul and sounds -
All just ashes. Just as I have it, - this world. And we - as he did.

And at the heart of humanity, where all the dead and stinking,
I, like a kite, look out for carrion avidly
Haste to devour her.