Let those men who do not fight
Feasting at the table of sloth
Where they spent their youth
There let them pass into old age

Weary through indolence
Not a glory to their name
The slaves of their stomachs
Who leave to us sweat and dust

Assumed the mask of virtue
Acquired a relish for idleness
Rotten with unjust pride
They pass their days till death

For as to all the arts of life
For as to all the arts of war
Is luxury a fatal vice
Destroyer of a shameless state

For a tranquil world
Situated in the embrace of silence
There is no pride in their crowned
For above their heads soar men of arms

Lifted torches light the pyres
This decadence - devastated

Si vis pacem para bellum
When the pillars collapse and fall

The land and sea, the root and branch
Of this empire shall be conquered

Si vis pacem para bellum
When the pillars collapse and fall