Beneath the sun, a peasant heart A land where bitter armies marched But here even serpents have their day Crosses and flowers bloom and stay Past our pain and our losses When we climb the hill of crosses March through death to where love is When you climb the hill of crosses Murder turns the sky to rust Children's faces crumble to dust Tyrants wax and tyrants wane The tree bends but still remains Past our pain and our losses When we climb the hill of crosses March through death to where love is When you climb the hill of crosses Cross-crowned with the sun's rays They tore it down but it grew again With Motherland blood grows the grain Rye waves and harvest will come again Past our pain and our losses When we climb the hill of crosses March through death to where love is When you climb the hill of crosses...