Your song will never be lost
With the coming of sundown
The night will be revolting
From the thoughts that the enemies
Are assaulting, in colorless image,
Cursing the peacemakers
Desecrating agreements and
Strangle our desires of just peace
The armed enemies aim to silence us,
Our voices, may it be a whisper
Or the loud cries of the street crowd
The killing is on, silently, as hunger
And poverty eat the fibers of their victims
We protest and curse the naked brutalities
Of various forms of state fascism
The stink of social injustice
The night is revolting and your song
Is the enemies’ nightmare.