From under the shroud of the night
From under the sods of yesterday
Lost, not found, far from blithe;
Now unconquerable, now winning
From the river of joy, from the ocean
Of peace, gut-wrenching cries
As I scale the green peak
The fertile soil soiling my bare toes
I rise, I gain, I win, I toss my bare body
On the flathold; I win, I win, I win.
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