At midnight the leader of the army
Will save himself, suddenly vanished:
Seven years later his reputation unblemished,
To his return they will never say yes.

The Gardon will flood Nîmes so high.
That they will believe Deucalion reborn:
Into the colossus the greater part will flee,
Vesta tomb fire to appear extinguished.

The great empire, everyone would be of it,
One will come to obtain it over the others:
But his realm and state will be of short duration,
Two years will he be able to maintain himself on the sea.

The shadow of the realm of Navarre untrue,
It will make his life one of fate unlawful:
The vow made in Cambrai wavering,
King Orléans will give a lawful wall.

Garden of the world near the new city,
In the path of the hollow mountains:
It will be seized and plunged into the Tub,
Forced to drink waters poisoned by sulfur.

O vast Rome, thy ruin approaches,
Not of thy walls, of thy blood and substance:
The one harsh in letters will make a very horrible notch,
Pointed steel driven into all up to the hilt.

The shining deed of the old one exalted anew,
Through the South and Aquilon they will be very great:
Raised by his own sister great crowds,
Fleeing, murdered in the thicket of Ambellon.

Through an object the eye will swell very much,
Burning so much that the snow will fall:
The fields watered will come to shrink,
As the primate succumbs at Reggio.

The old roads will all be improved,
One will proceed on them to the modern Memphis:
The great Mercury of Hercules fleur-de-lis,
Causing to tremble lands, sea and country.

Cries, weeping, tears will come with knives,
Seeming to flee, they will deliver a final attack,
Parks around to set up high platforms,
The living pushed back and murdered instantly.