Singing as I Walk Through the Wine

Across a thousand miles of rivers and mountains, how many heroes and heroines lie buried beneath green hills; through ten thousand miles of song, how many seasons have passed as cold seas turn to fields? With no sword in hand, yet a sword in the heart: chivalry for its bones, justice for its edge, and the world itself forged into its scabbard! If this turbulent age is mired in chaos, then I shall become the sword and carve out a clear, prosperous world that reaches to the heavens and pierces the earth!