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