Torn by sacred trees
placed on the white stone
by the oldest man of her people
here is were we come to pray
the smell of blood and smoke
it spreads through the forest
a thousand horns sounds
in salute to the new king.
In the eyes of the druid,
a sacred fire burns eternally.
He can see inside the woods,
the Golden Age over this land.
For over a thousand years
the Gods had protected us
our Mother gave animals
with forests and sacred rivers.
Ancestral towers beyond the forest,
the pillars of (the) Universe
the Pantheon of the oldest Gods
which now rest in their golden thrones.
Threatened by the arrival of the invader
more than one thousand sons of Nur gave their lives
to defend the great sacred temples
that someday will arise in the light of the Gods.
