---

Three-crowned elk rotting in the ground,

turning to soil.

Warships of once mighty warriors

sinking in flames to the depths of the sea,

volcanic glow in a far away horizon.

Two-headed eagle strangled

with the tail of our armoured golden guard,

fighting with the sharpened claws

the fangs of the furry beast

and all of the bloodred horrors from east

Weak won't last, the strong survive.

Triumph of will is our guide.

We won't kneel, we won't retreat.

We are the true protectors of the north.