Tell me, the gloomy window, why we are growing weak,

Why all spells are passing.

A thousand years of damnation passed and something is

Coming back - the eternity must survive.


My power cannot be broken, I cannot be dethroned,

There cannot be such strength and there will never be any.

Everything is burnt, except for the little hope and an ancient prophecy.


Only I know the prophecy though, there are no fairies,

There is nothing any more.

They were drowned by the guardian of the sword. Is that true?

I saw it on my own. I cannot be deceived,

There are neither fairies nor anything else.


Only black hearts and tears of those who survived remained.


A thousand years passed. You are sitting, having a feast,

You are conceited and keen, but Ambloque never forgets anything.

I am leaving but I will come back and it will prove if the prophecy lasts.