War is effort, it is restlessness, anxiety is, is shipping
And the bloody drama and hard
The eagerness with which the spirit seeks
Be perfect, be up, be strong!

And subconscious that transfigures
In volition conflagration... It is the cohort
Of all races, who gives himself to death
For the happiness of the creature!

And the obsession to see blood, instinct is horrendous
Rising, in the cosmic order, descending
In primitive irrationality

And nature, in its arcane
Need drenched in human blood
To show men they are alive!