I tell anecdotal stories, 

the ancestors praise the deeds they say

My mantra it shimmers

Pioneer vibe that shatters the scale

who still questions

we speak up, the zeitgeist of the blazing situation

Enjoy the halcyon days, 

like tribal shamans, we warn of great dangers

 

I walk lonely through the night, 

I'm emaciated to the bone

You have no idea what this journey has taken from me

But now I'm standing on the summit, 

and look down on the world

this world conflagration stretches from horizon to horizon

failing voice, i sharpen the blade, metallic singing 

silver grip, in red steel, things reflecting

… Not red from the blood they shed laughing

but red from the field where poppies sprout

they misjudged money, took it for the final state

have reduced happiness and lived on a remainder

limited knowledge, guided by baser instincts

how willingly they drink the golden calf's milk

don't want to sink into this golden quicksand

but rather like the sounds of the deep sea

wants despite all obstacles, general fantasies 

enclose the beauty of eternity in pure poems

 

I may be on the outside, but step through the gate

have reached the threshold, a pure chorus resounds

Pioneer essence, we keep pushing forward

and free us from the morass of this moor of suffering

far from the settlement, fought obstacles,

but I feel slowly but surely 

like an abandoned ghost

whenever i rhyme i touch the essence

then I fly like a thought and bridge this world