From beneath the Horizen's wing, the crown of Dawn rises in spendor.
Revealing in the light all that laid in the slumber of Dusk's watch;
Upon the hill do the birds sing, in the wake of the of heights does the ode arise.

The elohim spread their wings, and dance in flight. As Adam is ready to plow the land.
Creation amidst the melody does stir, for a land of sorrow this plain is not.

As Dawn's crown rises, it's splendor does shine.
It shines a relent for the prince Dusk, permissing his watch to end.
A new ode has been sung, the new day is ordained afresh.
A melodious echo resounds anew for the pioneers on frontier's edge.