The land in silence stands
Our good and fertile land
Shrouded in a dress of green
But time will come to harvest

Now singing through the trees
All joyous melodies
Now young men sow their seed
And time will come to harvest (the end)

All young men making plans
Godlike in the arrogance
Heading for foreverland
As the time will come to harvest

Oh glorious silence
Of worlds gone headlong
Now resistance is futile
But our blessful persistence

Is but a tribute
From this world to the next
We revive and we mend
We stave and we defend

A life well spent
And an inevitable end if the words they speak are true
Time is running out for you
Time is running out for me
With the rising of the sea harvest (the end)

Black clouds gather in the sky
Now when gods come home to die
Peaceful calm meadows
Turn to windswept battlefields

By the final words I speak
When I'm wounded scared and weak
Don't judge me to harshly
For such is all mens fate
Oh, glorious silence
From this world to the end