They're trembling and shouting with eyes turned white To the beat of drums They're stretching their arms to point at the sky Where Makda hears their cries And slowly they are rising to the stars Years of battles and wars And they're still dancing wild And behind the hills she's still hiding Her soul is as old as the rain And the tales are maybe forgotten And so are her thousands of names But her greatness still remains Inside the cicle horns are burnt The flames light up the night They're chanting the name of the one who gave birth To the sun, the moon and the stars And the wind is singing lonely from afar The flood washed away their temples and graves But somewhere they're still praying And behind the hills she's still hiding Her soul is as old as the rain And the tales are maybe forgotten And so are her thousands of names But her greatness still remains