The front line is the spot Where one toasts the celestial alcohol in war Where our honorable stares are stained red Where the barrels yell Where numerous painful memories Downpour from adornments Where rulers are crushed Where dawns the day There is no disgrace like death in war All for nothing Nothing at all like the extravagant passing All for nothing So valuable to them All for nothing So invaluable to all Distant I see it My heart longs for it The spot to end This unimportant pain Hence they said: 'When we are gone Really we pass on not Since we will finally breathe' This will make us content The front line is the spot Where one toasts the celestial alcohol in war Where our honorable stares are stained red Where the barrels yell Where numerous painful memories Downpour from adornments Where rulers are crushed All for nothing