Before my grandfather's grandfather was born, this was our land. These are our good places; our gods live here, in the trees and the rivers. They watch over us. We are happy: we hunt, we love, we have families, homes, a good life. But sometimes we must fight! The Romans disturb the gods; they burn the forests; they take what is ours, wives, children, land! And the Romans talk of how they will 'help us and protect us'. They put us to sleep with golden promises: when we wake, all that we had is gone-stolen! They take our sons and turn them into little Romans. Gah! So we fight to keep what is ours, what must stay ours! There can be no peace, no peace with Romans, men of stone, and iron, and lies! There can be only war!
+1 for plagiarizing?