Awake!
The giant taunts you, doesn't he, daughter. He hungers for your destruction, slavering after your soul. (Awake!) He will not be quick your suffering a banquet to him. He comes to your fields and uproots all your fruitful trees, soiling your fields with the blood of your fruits till you are as barren as the desert. (Awake!) The giant has a sister, Shame she is called. How she taunts you for your barrenness, for what you chose - and what you did not. (Awake!) Your tears salt the earth, your screams do not even echo in the void. You may as well be mute, as silent as the fruit stolen from you.
Oh son, how your back bends under such weight. The giant laughs at you as you vacate the place you were designed to stand. (Awake!) You toil and tend the fields he desires, can he not convince you to hand over what is precious? Just give him the fruit, or he'll take it by force, what's the point of putting up a fight? (Awake!) Blood soaks the fields, the giant's sister comes to call, taunting you for what you chose - and what you did not. (Awake!) Cry all you want, it won't return what was stolen. You can scream to the heavens, but their laughter will drown out your cries.
But did you not hear? Oh son, oh daughter, do you not know? What was stolen shall be returned seven-fold. (Awake!) The blood cries can be soothed with Blood that is greater, your fields can be healed by the One who is Healer. (Awake!) How can blood wipe away blood? A wonder so beautiful! Let the giant gnash his teeth, his death is already decreed anyway. (Awake!) So daughter, dry your tears. Oh daughter, rejoice in the harvest. Son, take your place. Oh son, the fields are ripe for celebration. Awake! You shall see your children treading over the ashes of the giant's bones.
