The smell of ground trod by thousand men,
The taste of metal heated by the sun.
The breathe of fog dissolving at down,
The sound of muscles contracting for tension.
Ready to feel with blood.
Adrenaline wipes out of fear.
Brotherhood for the courage.
No one remembers why is standing on the battlefield,
No ideals pushing their lives, all them, toward death.
Only one firm thought,
To be worthy of their own God
For protecting the village,
For defending honour with the sword.
Two armies set against preparing for battle
Even hundreds meters far
Gazes seem to touch,
Fear taking control, must not think
There’s only need to shout own’s battle cry.
Must push adrenaline in the veins
Must mind honouring own’s God
And take their heads for trophy.
Lug come to me, God of Light
Guide them like Truma the Danann
Kill the dreadful Balor
Help them annihilate and…
…fear of fortune and of faith
Will never touch our hearts.
We sacrifice for those we sworn to protect.
The battle’s rangin’ on devouring flesh and bones,
But we are fighting ‘till the breaths
of our souls expire.
Look your brother, look your fellow.
Gaze the enemy straight in the eyes!
Start your screaming!
The sun cuts the battlefield,
The men are lined up
And ready for engagement.
In a moment silence falls as an axe.
Suddenly the death
Seems like it’s between (us),
Heart stops and breath is broken.
Full of the energy, focusing only on the enemy,
Straightaway starting to rush with high swords.