Against the waves, with out swords in our hands
Against the sea, with our backs to the walls
Against distress, in the presence of our enemies
Against the storms, roaring at our faces
A cry rang out throughout the skies

A beckon, the flight of the cranes



The call of the mountains

The call of the Alps

The call home

The tune in our hearts

The song of the mountains



What's that stir, so blatant in our sallying hearts?

What's that urge, that lifted up our longing eyes?

What's that ring, echoing from the leaden skies?

What's that augur, resounding from the lyre's strings?



A cry rang on in the sibilant winds

A behest, the outcry of the cranes