Hateful Winds from the Southern Glaciers

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.