Often times met we,
Know ye not even,
Nor do I, either.
Bet shrouded we be,
And fruitful airs \'bouts.
Parole each hope and,
Conform to this open,
Made of the fine sky,
Ay, are breathes wellspring,
Be it each keepsake.
This is our strength,
Lief to alter now-
Though oversight by
Those of dark elves,
But we passed by.
And you could see,
All of unseen mine.
Unspoken talks of me,
When you don\'t a lot,
But thought of all.
When below \'tears of heaven\' shed,
By its endowed fortunes the earth,
That brings much wealthiness mirth,
Overly could now all the budding thrives,
So for our hearts to vanquish this day.