Fatherland

Never too late the call to answer never too late the service to render in patriotism our strength triumph in piety our loyalty resound oh, service to father land? The ravaging feat of the wicked we solemnly bewail at this time of national recession. In some climes of idleness, victory song of abracadabra quiver the land but to us, the minority, not in tribe but in loyalty and patriotism, it is like the victory of the fleeting star whose triumph does not last. The new temple lacks the sacred touch of the ancient and yet its transient glow gladdens the youth whose mien cannot but pamper modernity. Wait not for too long, father land! your children, your true children will come from the far conner of the earth and beautify you not too long from now in true service we shall arise and sing the sacred royal anthem cast with the sacred blood of our forefathers. We shall serve thee with our bloods and sweats, our tears shall make thee happy. The season of the lepers draws so soon to its end and in preparedness we wait to give our best to the greatness of thee, Oh fatherland!