You look upon the corpse that passes by
With your sickle in hand
With your hoe o'er your shoulder
You look and return to the ground
The ground that you furrow
As your means of life
Being your loss.
You look without comprehending
You ask without understanding,
Who killed that brother?
Brother in our fight and in our fate
With a lump in the throat, tight-chested,
Who brought an end to that life
That only life sought?
If you won't open your eyes
If you won't take the lands
If you won't join the war
Begun by other hands
You will be without doubt
Just another sucked in by death
Watching life pass by.