All things benign have gone Inviting all sorts of plagues The lofty shadows of heroes have vanished Glorious memories swallowed by darkness
No one could bury him Beneath the ground In vain they cry: he cried! He endured in his half rotten grave
Sovereign's return
Those who still throw clods on his coffin Do not know he is immortal Ordered to harden in battle or die He survived the mists of doubts And the thunder of despair The bray of his battle horn still carries on
From dark caves he came to the light Spewing out refreshing flame His ravenous will of fire remains And the world will taste it again