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Sweet is the song of the summer time lily.
Long are the days of warmth in the springtime.
Then south of the earth we go,
On and on, downward or upward no one know
'till we reach the mythical plains of Falnola.
There we stand at the gates of her palace.
The lustrous silver surrounds us as we enter.
Behold queen Falnola
Behold her Knights of Samjan.
Behold, her beauty is unmatched.
The maidens weep and cry in the streets
The cowards hide under stones
The wizards fear their master.
The King comes,
The King comes,
Behold, the King comes
And all is as dust.
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