(It is sung in Old Bretic, this is a translation)
Souls of our fathers, suffer deeply,
For you have led us to the dark time,
When our own souls, filled with air,
Allowed ignorance and villiany to thrive
In what used to be our land.
Howl, ancestors, howl and bring us
Memories of our conformance with evil.
We do anything we can to survive,
Giving up our minds and hearts and bodies
We will not fight, and we will be torn
And like flotsam in a whirling tide
We will be forever the agents of injustice
But we will mourn it forever.