Ambasadorowie [English translation]

A globe under the arm - holding a map of the world,

What strategy can be afforded, plans and dreams,

And the insignia of power, sable robe,

Thick hair, and hand's gesture without a twitch.

And in reach of the hand a clock - it's quite early,

Self-confidence the clock's pointer doesn't receive.

Sight - mirror of the soul - sees everything, even in sleep,

Whom is calmed by a Cipher and a Letter.

They've done so much already, despite being so young,

The wax of achievements submits to their unmistakable tracks,

It's Georges de Selve - a promising diplomat,

and Jean de Dinteville - a French Ambassador.

It's a discrete splendor - only an echo of dignity,

A Turkish carpet, Italian Lute - a sophisticated sign.

In mute lips absolute taste of victory,

In attitudes - greatness - gained in life,

A heavy curtain supports - with what it hides.

They confidently look ahead, sure of their righteousness,

For Diplomacy controls today everyone who lives,

And they're - the flowers of sixteenth century diplomacy!

They don't know what's pain, plague, or a cold,

Great cravings - the world will always satisfy!

It's Georges de Selve - a promising diplomat,

and Jean de Dinteville - a French Ambassador.

Yet within the lute, a string suddenly breaks,

And the open pages of the book of knowledge turn yellow...

Behind the crucifix errs the hand involuntarily.

The clock's arrow moves faster!

A terrifying shape before them appears with a half-step.

And disturbs the peace - is the artist fooling around?

No, it's no joke! You must look at that shape from the side!

To see clearly that it is a human skull!

They were - and they are no longer, ah - what a loss it is!

What were they called? Who's still aware of it?

Ah! Georges de Selve! A promising diplomat!

Ah! Jean de Dinteville, a French Ambassador!