1. When you witness a battlefield, you almost break into song
Instead of swords being drawn or blood being shed

2. With but a glance from you, the horn is bent back furiously
As if your glance against it is a sharp, destroying sword

3. You went where the thick-necked lions assemble ferociously
And you were where death's calamities throng and gather

4. And death did not claim a single soul among them
Except your sword was the shank of generosity or a ruin

5. And their corpses on the slender bodies lie scattered
As if they are patches of ravens and carrion

6. Waymarks on the path of the caravan, you'd think them
Calling out to the caravan about their lost bodies

7. And the ravens gather around them fallen
As if above their cooked flesh they pick

8. Silent, yet the shape of them says:
"This is the vengeance against the disobedient son of Ma'n."