When I reminisce about all those years of tribulation,
I mostly remember our songs.
We died.
And our blood seeped away on the battlefields.

But our songs survived.
Together with those of us that returned.

And as they too will die one day,
Our songs will live on
And will be sung by our children
And by our children’s children.

This is how we will be remembered.
This is who we were: Helvetios.

Do aivi, do aivi… (forever, forever…)