O, what stark beauty lies upon this plain?
Two armies poised for a combat eterne.
Yet both sides appear as one and the same,
Their foe the orb that must always return.
Ever back and forth, the pale orb doth fly,
As the warriors fight to repel him.
Cunning and swifter yet than hand or eye,
His tireless efforts tire skilled limbs.
Brilliance and shadow, mere dark and mere light,
This is all that the eye can see in here.
Yet beauty abounds in this graceful fight,
As the orb dances onwards, the great sphere.
Join in the struggle, the eternal fight
With us dance the dance of black and white.