In Bohemia there lived a Queen,

The King of Thule’s gentle sister,

There was never a queen more beautiful,

She reigned through beauty alone.

The great Troubadour of Bohemia,

One sad russet autumn evening,

Murmured: ‘I love you’, that old refrain!

Crazed souls and such crazed hearts!...

And the white-skinned beauty

Was so loved by the gentle poet,

That of a sudden her white soul

Gave up the ghost and fled to the stars…

The great bells of Bohemia

And the little bells of Thule

Sang the last Honsanna

Of the Queen who died of love.