Somewhere, sometime, in the old East Lands,
in a spot relieved for four rivers, shadowed
by luxurious a garden, at royal a manor house
and by one sixth labor day, we awakened to life.
Made on the Creator’s likeness, by many years
we enjoyed His care and His love.
Once, by uncovering life secrets,
like good and evil,
our ancestors were banished,
having been locked the Paradise Gate
and initiated hard and harsh our toiling.
How long more will last our penalty?
When and where should we meet again?
Although heavy sternness demonstrated,
be aware many of us still venerate You,
and, some, still love.
We hope to see once more inhabited
that manor house where all has begun,
and, appeasing Your heart,
You disarm some cherubims’ flaming swords.