Blood. My ritual. The flame Reincarnates the evil The hill. Flowers at last The horde reborn in the basement of kings Sore. The wounds. Inheritance of the slave The limbo of souls He dies through hatred, reborn through war He walks through the fire and retakes what is his! Immortal! The feet on the ground The pain, the whip. The red soil Dagger in hand. The slave is reborn The Quilombo stands up! Immortal! There is no triumph if the victory was given There is no conquest in a war without battle Only the grain. The scum, the scraps The slave rise up and the empire will die! The dreams brought by dawn Will not vanish, even in death From the ground which peace is aimed Hell is here too. eyes open wide The fists raise up (will be reborn!) Declare war. The servants against the world (will be reborn!) Every morning brings our heritage of struggle Inglorious victory in the mud of the street Death, darkness, time. The cure The slave rises up and the empire will die! Immortal! Those who remain loyal. Immortal