And so upon her shoulders rest,

The uncertainty of her toughest test,

In her the many strands of life unite,

To work against an evil might.

A pair of wars and a breach of security,

Leave her calling to her Beloved Guard.

In her lie none greater than an ideal,

That rides upon the waves of History.

She, a tender battleship that does not want, 

She, a vicious lamb that surpasses thought,

Upon her shoulders lie the fate of humanity.

For her shoulders are not her own,

And she is supported by all,

Because she is all.

Many come in her name, yet desecrate her principle.

They ravage all by the one.

For if we lose her, all is lost.

And so upon our shoulders rest,

The Democratic gift to which we attest.