I walked for a long time writing our names on each dhiri (stone)
When I walked back the way I came
Gitil (sand) had colored the earth with arak’ (red)
The bijli (lightning) split a lying tree trunk

A sal (year) has passed since the rain drove you from my memory
Take my hand and reach out and touch this lonely itil (star)
Make its light shine on the waves of the jola (lake)
The twilight will soon be draped in a rimil (cloud) of bluish copper

The silence sada (white) covered the silk of my sighs
The serma (sky) weeps on my naked shoulders
A seta (dog) came to lick my wounds
A sparrow’s feather fell into an icy puddle

I watched a hako (fish) play with the storm
Men were cutting the only haka (flower) in the forest
The furious winds uprooted my heart
A sal (year) has passed since the rain drove you from my memory