Frank Petersohn

Wild geese are rushing through the night

Wild geese are rushing through the night,
with shrill cry, northbound rangers
|: Hazard awaits, take care your flight,
   and world is full of dangers :|

Fly through the night-filled air my friends,
you squadron grey and mighty
|: Dawn breaks as battle cry extends
   far o'er the lands below ye :|

Fly on, rush on, you grey-winged flight,
rush on to Northland's safety
|: When you fly south again some night,
   What will my fate have made me? :|

We are, as you, a gray-clothed pack,
the Kaiser's fighting yeomen
|: Should our flight end with no way back,
   Fly south and sound our Amen :|

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