In his right hand he holds a sword,
From his left blood flows.
· · · · ·
On the rocky steeps a horse is standing;
It is neighing aloud that Love may succour;
It is pawing the earth in woe and anguish.
Beside the horse a soldier is lying;
Above them circles a huge bird flying ...
Beside the soldier his mother is crying.
“The flag was lost—why lose my life too?