March wind
Clashed the trees,
Flung the snow;
Breaking stones,
In the cold,
Germans
Toiled and toiled;
Arrowy
Glanced and sprang,
One right
German sang:
Songs of home,
Fatherland:
Syenite hard,
Weary lot,
Callous hand,
All forgot:
Hammers pound,
Ringing round;
Rise the heaps,
To his voice,
Bounds and
Toise on toise:
Toil is long,
But dear
Gives us song,
At the
Gives us test,
Toil is best.
