Brother I hear your voice at night
in the mountains in the moonlight.
Here we cower awaiting the curse of Turks
as they rush through our village berserk
snatching our best
leaving the rest
burning …how long?
I hear your voices in the morning
Not in mourning
But in daring
No enemy sparing
Spring is in the air
We no longer despair
Our hearts and minds aware.
His angels are gathering overhead
Like eagles they spread
The moment arrives
Our spirit survives
It has before
And will again.
I hear your voice beloved…The coming storm of freedom!