When you set out on a journey that's doomed to failure,
And see your brave efforts fail on Fate's whims.
When you begin your crusade with your heart all pure,
and end up in ruins, with neither energy nor vim.

When you regard your enemies to numerous to figure,
And see them unite to strike you down.
When your legions are routed and your reinforcements detered,
The world is silent except for the voices from the ground.

Fate had cursed us with this bitter life,
Where defeat is inevitable and victory brief.
There is nothing to life but struggle and strife,
and the grave is the only relief.