I think I see the mighty hills of Darjeeling.
What magnificence, it is that they bring!
Bold as a King, so high its peak.
Where the oaks grow densely and so do teak.

I think I hear a whistling of Toy Train,
Elevating the twisted track, so slow they gain.
As small as an ant climbing up the King’s feet,
Singing and moving while sounding so sweet.

I think I observe a little streak of falling tear,
Fall from the eyes of Darjeeling, the valiant emperor.
I looked amazingly at the hills of Darjeeling.
All hail Darjeeling! Our benevolent King!