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!!!