Death Song In the crescent formed They are fearful in their stance, Their sashes impaled, The arrows throb to the song: The sun and the moon Will live forever, but we Kaitsenko die. And each soldier holds his place And the field is won Or given up to the dead. Away in the camps There is bright water running Between banks of reeds And prairie turnips. The drone Of bees a music On sagebrush and bluebonnets, Women and children Frolic among butterflies, And hawks in the sky Circle and sail on the wind. On the trail of time It is a good day to die.
