Scars of Victory

Red clay beneath our bare soles has bitten into the fissures of the skin.
The sinews remember the strike that made the ancient bedrock shudder.
We do not hide our gashes under cloth - they are no lords' hollow medals,
Every mark across the chest carves a trail where raw terror dissolved.
Look upon this open palm: hardened by the passage of the hurricane,
We stood as an unbroken rampart against the storm that felled the giant herds.

Hey! Stand tall!
 The pain has snapped!
 Hey! Hold the stride!
 The truth is with us!

Припев
These are the scars of victory, a living seal stamped upon the shoulder!
We marched right through the blaze without bowing our stubborn spine!
Let the wide plains thunder beneath in joyful, scorching fire,
Every mark carved on the flesh is the banner of our awakening!
We sing at the peak of our lungs, laughing at the ancient grief,
This is the feast of the living who stood their ground in the slaughter!

 Ya-o-ho! Dance upon the flint!
 Ya-o-he!
 The earth is singing!


The one who aimed straight for the throat lies behind us in the dust.
We shed no tears above our wounds - inside the wound, dense steel is born.
A warm wind sways the woven cord above the river’s surging torrent,
And the iron bell peals with fury, burning out the ancient sorrow.
Our mothers sang through the siege and the roaring metal hail,
We have arrived to claim our sunrise without bowing, without tears or lies!

 Hey! Lift your brow!
 Fear has vanished!
 Hey! Strike the drum!
 We are alive!

Припев
These are the scars of victory, a living seal stamped upon the shoulder!
We marched right through the blaze without bowing our stubborn spine!
Let the wide plains thunder beneath in joyful, scorching fire,
Every mark carved on the flesh is the banner of our awakening!
We sing at the peak of our lungs, laughing at the ancient grief,
This is the feast of the living who stood their ground in the slaughter!

 The flesh will mend tighter than a forged war shield.
 Memory holds fast!
 Do you hear the root screaming through the heart of the granite?
 The power is alive!
 We never surrendered to the frost, never gave way to the spear blades!
 This mark upon the brow is the crown of unvanquished heads!



Припев
These are the scars of victory, a living seal stamped upon the shoulder!
We marched right through the blaze without bowing our stubborn spine!
Let the wide plains thunder beneath in joyful, scorching fire,
Every mark carved on the flesh is the banner of our awakening!
We sing at the peak of our lungs, laughing at the ancient grief,
This is the feast of the living who stood their ground in the slaughter!