By 
Aktuh and Melota – A Klingon Opera. {No words available}
And though the cold brittles the flesh, The chain of duty cannot be broken, For the chain is forged in the heart’s own fire Which cold cannot extinguish
Yet if my line should die, It dies with its teeth in the enemy’s throat, It dies with its name on the enemy’s tongue. For just as mere life is not victory, Mere death is not defeat; And in the next world I shall kill the foe a thousand times, Laughing, Undefeated.
The Vengence Flies At Morning
The guns are hot, the hull is ringing, The engines sing the sound of triumph; And every one aboard awaits A prize upon the high horizon. Hand and weapon! Heart and power! Cry it with the voice of the Empire! Victory and prize plunder! Vengence flies at morning!
