O Uillac Uma, Great High Priest,
I bow before thee with respect
May the skies be clear for thee,
And brightest sunshine meet thine eyes.


Uillac Uma.

Brave Ollantay! Princely one!
May all the teeming land be thine;
May thy far-reaching arm of might
Reduce the wide-spread universe.



Ollantay.

Old man! thine aspect causes fear,
Thy presence here some ill forebodes;
All round thee dead men's bones appear,
Baskets, flowers, sacrifice.
All men when they see thy face
Are filled with terror and alarm.
What means it all? why comest thou?
It wants some months before the least.
Is it that the Inca is ill?
Perchance hast thou some thought divined
Which soon will turn to flowing blood.