Hymn to Joy

Joy, the great wind of freedom, Flower of Elysian fields, We enter, drunk with fire, The goddess's graceful shrine. Your magic frees all people Who cruel fate damned and disgraced. With you, all men become brothers, reaching towards the golden stars. All of nature's many creatures The beauty of the whole earth, All the good and all the evil, Follows her trails of roses. With her, the bloodied swords of war became our good ploughshares. With them, we clear the darkness From the fair spikes of peace. Be embraced, oh mankind, By thy love across the world. Brothers, in the starry canopy, Is our great father above. Are you crying, oh my brothers? Do you feel life's great comfort? Seek him above, oh my brothers, In the sky's great canopy!