I strike on my drums I the willful singer that I may fire our friends who think of nothing to whose minds plunged in sleep the dawn has not yet appeared over whom are yet spread the dark clouds of night may I not call in vain and poorly may they hear the song of the rosy dawn poured abroad widely be the drum the divine flowers of dawn blossom forth the war flowers of the cause of all glittering with dew they scatter abroad their fragrance bring them here that they be not hidden nor bloom in vain that they may rejoice you our friends and not in vain shall be the flowers and not in vain shall be the flowers the living, coloured, brilliant War flowers!!!!
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Copy to Clipboard: I strike on my drums I the willful singer that I may fire our friends who think of nothing to whose minds plunged in sleep the dawn has not yet appeared over whom are yet spread the dark clouds of night may I not call in vain and poorly may they hear the song of the rosy dawn poured abroad widely be the drum the divine flowers of dawn blossom forth the war flowers of the cause of all glittering with dew they scatter abroad their fragrance bring them here that they be not hidden nor bloom in vain that they may rejoice you our friends and not in vain shall be the flowers and not in vain shall be the flowers the living, coloured, brilliant War flowers!!!!
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