Run through the fields, take the pitchforks

Shield yourself from the wind, from the baleful word

Of the time passing by carrying

Fear and destruction... gods run with me

Thin arms but strong like oxes

Take brave warriors underground

Their wives locked in their homes harvest in futile prayers

Praying for theri children unaware of their paths

Miracolous child!

Run run women take away your children

Death attends you, stay nearby

Ravens on your way lengthen your path

The death your companion, is mother of your cry

The forks of your land are now gravestones

The seeds of your crops are now lost souls

Your forks like crosses, your tears like rain

The lives still standing are children of the pain

Echo of Christians prayers in the wind

Left in the memory of the poets children

Seek salvation to their god

And the wise poet children thank death that took them