Far away from cities bright, snuggled in your mountain
Languid amongst misty vales, soaked in histories romantic tales
Slumber on my crystal flower, n’er awake what er the hour,
Let Time itself watch over you, forever guard your true virtue.
No matter who no matter what, weather cold or weather hot,
Wind, rain and rumbling skies, suns asetting and moons arise,
Never let these forces rouse you, lie, be still and slumber true,
For there’s many that bid you wake and from your eyes sleepiness shake.
Hold fast my little Rose O’er North, afor ye stir and go ye forth,
Lay awhile and ponder this, your value on this life of bliss
For many years you’ve fought and bled, and watched your foes as they fled
Rise ye not to join the throng, remain ye resolute, steadfast and strong.
Your southern sisters see how they weep, they, like you were once asleep,
Happy with the old traditions, no yearning after new ambitions
But then the winds of progress came and opened up a life of shame
Blew away the crumbs of pride, it’s all but gone now all but died.
So take heed my sleeping Princess royal, the days ahead are days of toil,
The winds of change have altered course, and follow Ping back to its source,
Notus the south wind bringer of storms, looks to disfigure, looks to deform
So stir thyself and be aware, smell a foreboding in the air.
Your fields of green are quiet now, and silent is the ancient plough,
Your children dream of golden days, when lived their lives in olden ways
Awake ye northern hills and dales, bring to life those rousing tales,
Let not your heritage lie down and die, rise again ye olde Chiang Mai.