1. The youth wishes he could brave the storm of turmoil,
And block the fierce lion and the Thursday's evil eye,

2. To attain the glories of war, though if he knew,
Its reality, he wouldn't seek glory through it.

3. For glory lies not in intoxicating the land with blood,
Or riding through its excitement a roaring steed.

4. Rather, it is to repel with determination,
The overflow of sorrows in the wretched world like a dam.