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Hateful Winds from the Southern Glaciers

Campo de Mayo

I am the lone voice of the south
rising high my black banner of hate
I wrap myself in the tempests of night
my hands wield the thunders of rage.
Awakening the firm men of higher deeds
I blow the trumpet of eternal war
to refund the aristocracies and hierarchies of old
to give new rise to a truly thriving empire.
I call in sign of war and of wrath
I call to tread the false human equality
I call for the proud men of will and of strength
I call for the right of the nobler individualities.
The storms arise in the black horizon
my victor eyes are gleaming in the mist
I march ahead with the high standard of pride
although none shall ever dare to follow me.