Bent in the grand dance of the red poppies,
We let our courage rise from this seeded field,
We feed it with the truth of yesterday’s glories,
Our history, our sword, our shield.
Where slumber squeezes the lost dreams,
New hopes have born in us the faith again,
Awakened, our conscience cries and screams,
We walk barefooted, free in the rain.
The eternal...
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