Songs of mine that I've yet to write. How many?Tell me cuckoo, count them for me.The city or the village - where am I to live? To lie as a stone,Or burn as a star, a star?Sunlight of mine, glance now on me.See my palm has turned to a fist.And if you have powder, give me a spark.That's that.Who will now take the lonely path? The strong and the braveHave laid down their heads in battle, in the fields.Few now remain in memory, with a clear mind,And a firm hand, in the ranks. Our ranks.Sunlight of mine, glance now on me.See me palm has turned to a fist.And if you have powder, give me a spark.That's that.Where are you now, freedom of will? With who are you nowGreeting the tender sunrise? Answer me.Life is good with you, and bad without. My patient headAnd submissive shoulders, under the lash. The lash.Sunlight of mine, glance now at me.See my palm has turned to a fist.And if you have powder, give me a spark.That's that.