Your sing enchants all existing soul in this Middle Land
Your poetry crosses the hearts of the brave warriors of the kingdom.
Still that the wizards have the endless force,
Your strengh lies beyond the reach of sacred hills...

Minstrel and his power, to the twilight, the birds will fly in direction to the horizon
The breeze falls as a feeling that came from this magic land
Fairies´ land in my life rebirth with the sing of minstrel…

In people´ legends his exalted name is craved,
As bards, your poetries are magic, rocks spilling tears as sad maidens ..
His emerald harp calls wind, the flowers and the hills in this valley of the fairies...

Let all peregrination continues for the great forests of the sacred harp...