You're a spawn of the high cliffs,
slave to the wind and son to the storm
Born to a life on the free wings,
without chains to hold back your heart
Sweep through the air
spy for the prey
Feel your blood pumping
and then speed away
Spirit of the hawk
wild and free,
master of the sky
Creature of the
northwind's seed
flying ever so high
Beneath a scarlet horizon,
ascending are the feathers of the wild
Soar on you king of the welkin,
still spying down upon the ground