Bent in the grand dance of the red poppies,
We let our courage raises from this seeded field,
We feed it with the truth of yesterday’s glories,
Our history, our sword, our shield.

Where slumber squeezes the lost dreams,
New hopes have born in us the faith again
Wake up, our conscience cry and screams,
We walk barefooted, free in the rain.

The eternal wild of child and happiness,
Fresh grass, blue skies, no worries,
A little touch of tenderness,
We write with red our new stories.

Dreaming pure thoughts that change the world,
Caring and loving, praying and singing,
Living our life for our country and for the Lord,
Whatever comes, in the end, we’re winning!