Tico, Toco, Toco, Tiquiti, Quiti, Quiti, Quito; Where It Is to Turn Back Again

Resting amid parti-colored flowers I rejoiced; the many shining flowers came forth, blossomed, burst forth in honor of our mother Holy Mary.

They sang as the beauteous season grew, that I am but a creature of the one only God, a work of his hands that he has made.

Mayst thy soul walk in the light, mayst thou sing in the great book, mayst thou join the dance of the rulers as our father the bishop speaks in the great temple.

God created thee, he caused thee to be born in a flowery place, and this new song to Holy Mary the bishop wrote for thee.