Mosi-oa-tunya

the smoke that thunders

is all that stands between.

I see you son of seer

who hunts ever gold

 

I fear not any collars

of which you once spoke

unto me

so very, resentfully

 

leave trace in my den

and Seitch Jacurutu

will hear matters

of the desert

 

in my Honour as fremen

will I give freely

unto you,

both chapter and verse

 

no need of artifice

when simplicity might

yet work

its easy magic

 

may Shai-Halud

cleanse the paths.

It falls on me to give,

oh, most cautious one

 

you must provide

secure means

and then the Mentat downloads

Insh’ Allah

 

ever the shadows

is instinct of old

ever the light

I am much more, bold

 

the morning star

and the setting sun

must soon

full circle come

 

foe am I not

ne’er have I been

fate has its quirks

sure, as can be seen

 

the smoke that thunders

is all that stands between.

I see you son of seer

who hunts ever gold