1. I roam wretched in every valley,
Slain, with no friend in this world,

2. Misfortune befell him, and in him were
The ideals of his brave, noble forebears,

3. So who will avenge a father who shed
The blood of the noble ones, and broke

4. The necks of the virtuous? With every
Crowned hero from the line of glorious Šibl,

5. I lamented him, as did the gazelles and mountain goats,
And the heights of greatness lamented,