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