From the Sikhote Alin Mountain,
I gaze at my world coming to an end.
I feel the sharp spear
peirce my brother's heart.

Blood trickles from my sister's mouth and
I taste its unwanted metallic zest.
The strench of Amur Basin burning
fills my nostrils, telling me my time

is limited. I pace, awaiting my poachers,
killers stained with the last
essence of my family.
This destruction of my kind hurts my soul,

but I stand to fight in the name of Amur.
As my band of enemies approach,
I summon the inner spirit and my
roar blankets the mountain air.

I feel my ancestors with me and
charge with the force of a thousand
tigers to my certain death.
The final battle begins.