Lived life more comfortably in demise
Providence could not have chosen me more worthy than that
With anguish smiling and chest big in size
Owe to my motherland my life ...
DEAD, with their eyes to the foe,
Dead, with the foe at their feet;
Under the sky laid low
Truly their slumber is sweet,
Though the wind from the Camp of the
Slain Men blow,
And the rain on the wilderness beat.