Betrayer from Thrace

We, the gods of the wretched human fate,
observers of mankind’s paths,
will laugh at Rome’s throne,
We will play with the son of Thrace.
Spartacus, brave of Maedis, why this hesitancy?
Spartacus, leave this servitude,
and grasp the sword of a wolf’s son!
Sell this blood, bitten from Greek veins,
thousands of legions marching to ease the painful thirst.
Battle with strength for glory
to keep a senseless pledge.
Spartacus, brave of Maedis, why this hesitancy?
Spartacus, leave this servitude,
and grasp the sword of a wolf’s son!
Their gold doesn’t buy back your dignity,
this iron doesn’t fit your warfare.
Desertion, for a brighter glory,
betrayal, that’s what you’ll be remembered for.