Skar the fire son
  Pet the smiling one
  Woo the sleeping one
  Ró the crying one
  
  Hú-hviss my little one
  Ró-ró my crying one
  Ligg-ligg my tired one
  Rura sleeping one
  
  Touch a feal, you blind a must
  Soft the skin of the warmest rust
  Cause nothing blows in the faraway
  I go away, go away
  Past the hills, past the day
  
  Touch a feal, you blind a must
  Soft the skin of the warmest rust
  Cause nothing blows in the faraway
  I go away, go away
  Past the hills, past the day