On through the battle's sound and glare,
Follow me, follow me, everywhere!
And hear the cries and the awful groans,
The piercing shrieks and the feeble moans—
And the ringing shout which goes up to the sun,
When a work is stormed and a victory won.
Rataplan! Rataplan! Rataplan!
This is the death for every true man.
