1
For centuries the legend has
Been blinding thirsty minds,
Leading through traps
To unknown treasures,
But still rebellious the walls are
Of the blest city, child of the sun;
Poisoned arrows are laid up
For backs of uninvited guests,
Who won’t stop, who hear
Call of their purpose;
2
Last army ascends
On mountain tops,
Exhausted from
Wounds and famine;
Without having left even the shade
In a payment for their sufferings
The illusive city won’t present its beauty,
The secret gates will never be opened;
Calling again, promising dreams,
It sneers at greedy souls;
CH:
Again sacred waters accept gifts,
Again gold dust settles on a bottom;
Beared God will never show the way
To halls of his Golden Lands;
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Searching for the miracle,
Without knowing fear,
Forward, to horizon
They head way;