What a choise you have to choose;
what a elevation you must do;
all deeds and all results are descedants
of this decision.
Flame of Romantic Land,
who had to be your leader?
Flower of Lands,
whom you’ll endow?
By what cues you show us so.
Your firing filles and garcons,
your children; beware!
Lost rations are loss of fruits.
Cry or silence, howl or purr,
you have to select the best way.
How nightly is this hour;
how childlish this competition;
whole focusing on flowing reality
of this time.
Accueil