I meet him ever so rarely.
Whenever I do,
I hold his hands in mine

And Pour out my greetings.
With bowed head I wish him:
"Be triumphant, victorious!"

I meet him ever so rarely,
The breeze becomes green
Whenever he opens his eyes,
Parched rivers come back to life
And a waxing moon suffuses the skies.

Rarely do I get to meet him.
When, like a pearl
Bursting forth from its shell
He sometimes stands facing me,
He dwarfs the huge man
Within me.