In thine exodus from the Land of Fathers,
Maketh a pilgrimage over the Southern Sea.
When thy standan on the brink of the Abyss,
The true souls of men will be seen to thee.
Kindleth the flame, for thou shall walketh far,
Slayeth a beast in thine brenganing of souls from apart.

Lotus blooms, leaves fall //
Fleeting breath echoes loudly //
Freed from the struggle //