I
Come with me, bright lady
where stars are born
hair is like leaves there,
and the body as snow;
white are teeth there,
dark the brows;
a delight of the eye
every cheeks as rose.
The Land of Fal is desolate
after frequenting the Great Land.
II
Come with me, bright lady
where stars are born
my folk walk proud
and rivers run with wine;
a crown of gold shall be upon thy head
and meat and ale
and milk and honey.
Magical land …
Young do not die there
before old