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Against the waves, with our 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 of 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