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