tlhIngan-Hol Archive: Fri Aug 06 12:54:42 2010

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How Many of Them Can We Make Die!

Michael Roney, Jr. (nahqun@gmail.com)



Earlier today I received a request to translate the following poem/song.
As poetry comes with its own unique problems, I'm sending this out to the group for input.


~naHQun



~Michael Roney, Jr.
Professional Klingon translator
webOS dev

-- Sent from my Palm Pre



Axes flash, broadsword swing,

Shining armour's piercing ring

Horses run with polished shield,

Fight Those Bastards till They Yield

Midnight mare and blood red roan,

Fight to Keep this Land Your Own

Sound the horn and call the cry,

How Many of Them Can We Make Die!



Follow orders as you're told,

Make Their Yellow Blood Run Cold

Fight until you die or drop,

A Force Like Ours is Hard to Stop

Close your mind to stress and pain,

Fight till You're No Longer Sane

Let not one damn cur pass by,

How Many of Them Can We Make Die!



Guard your women and children well,

Send These Bastards Back to Hell

We'll teach them the ways of war,

They Won't Come Here Any More

Use your shield and use your head,

Fight till Every One is Dead

Raise the flag up to the sky,

How Many of Them Can We Make Die!



Dawn has broke, the time has come,

Move Your Feet to a Marching Drum

We'll win the war and pay the toll,

We'll Fight as One in Heart and Soul

Midnight mare and blood red roan,

Fight to Keep this Land Your Own

Sound the horn and call the cry,

How Many of Them Can We Make Die!









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