1. How many weeping women mourn a lion,
And lamenters grieve in agony for their branches.

2. I yearn for him who dwelt in a harsh homeland,
Amid the horses with swords and spears.

3. The horses neigh sideways with their forelocks tossed,
And the earth casts forth a torrent of crimson blood.

4. Thus it was my noble forefathers set forth,
Amidst battles whether aged or youthful.