Far away, beyond the baynRugged hills tower over the woodsnA fort stands steadfastly on each topnNo pinewood this enchanting at night,nNor water so blue or brightnThis is the land of the Fenns nnOnce the trees were as old as the worldnWhole Tavastia was quiet and tranquilnNow those days have gone bynLeft: mourning and loud war criesnA chain of six bonfires blaze nnPeople start running back and forthnIn these distant towns of NorthnHundreds of years we've foughtnThousands of men dropped their swordn'til the last man falls - we vow nnBlow Your horns, prepare for warnWar ships float towards the townnWith crosses sewed on their sailsnThe huge fort gates are boomednThe ones left outside are doomednUnited agaist the cross we stand nnSuddenly all the people fell quietnThe cloudless heavens turned scarletnDrumskins strongly boomed from the skiesnThe signs of warfare were infront of our eyes nnSee the battle raging - grab Your swordnA distant thunder rumbling - bend your bowsnThe great arrows fly, stallions whinenLong chains creak, heath echoing nnFinally the victory is achievednLast enemies retreatnMuch blood have been spillednHundreds of men been killednCheering and celebrating can be heard nnFar away, beyond the baynRugged hills tower over the woodsnA fort stands steadfastly on each topnWhen will the old Gods fall?nFor how long will the spirit live on?nUnited against the cross we stand