Two horses rest in silence, by the sea. When a young girl, who came from the dead, approached the scene. Inside their nostril, she has laid a scent of deed and you may listen To their neigh in your silent dream. Charmer, my poor charmer, rest under the olive-tree, Under the olive-tree. When death loses track of all her charms, He is always drunk in Morpheus' arms. Under the silent, the silent olive-tree. Charmer, my poor charmer! Two horses are gazing at the sea, When a young girl approached the scene. Her name in the shape of fear. Her shield shiny, as when she lived... Charmer, my poor charmer, rest under the olive-tree. Charmer, my poor charmer, rest under the olive-tree. Under the olive-tree!!