Mourir A Madrid - Rome

Wir zogen übers weite Meer

ins fremde Spanierland

Wir jagten sie wie eine Herde

und der Teufel, der lachte dazu:

Ha ha ha ha ha!

They have tried to soothe us once more;

with the scent of flowers, ranks and whores.

They have tried to make this world hope for us;

make it glow, again, for us.

They have offered this peace, with consciousness appeased;

of satisfied appetites,

of pleasures doomed and brief.

And they made me a liar,

they named you a thief.

And they doused our sacred fires and nailed their colours to the mast of the

opressed and thus put them to rest, forever.

Red, with anger;

at so much beauty.

They declared themselves the lords of memory,

the lords of envy.

And yet, they soon will have to retire and die;

exiled from glory.

And Madrid, shall rise again.

Be free.