For those who clutch stones to see out the day,
Grapes for our brothers, for our sisters fire,
I sing of what lies within me,
But I sing with joy, not for me alone,
I see the first signs of the Great Spring-
A silver flame in the night sky,
We have all there is to own,
The time has come- will we let them in?
See, there go the Partisans of the Full Moon,
My place is here.
There go the Partisans of the Full Moon,
Over on the other shore, they are wise,
With white harts against the black snow.
I know all that can be know, my love,
But can I do this? - I can not
So who is master here, where is his lash?
His pleasure is fear, guilt his trap.
We will just sing, my love,
We will not let him in.
See there go the Partisans of the Full Moon,
My place is here,
There go the Partisans of the full Moon,
Let them go.
I know this song deserves a better translation, maybe I will have another go, when I have time for more than a quick ten minutes.