1. In a fierce battle where death shakes its wings,
The swords of Indian men in the hands of swordsmen,

2. Flashing blades that would make the blind see their gleam,
Yet the sighted's eyes are blinded before them,

3. With thrashing ponytails that toss with pride
Above a rosy cheek of smooth complexion,

4. Circling them are ravens of death
That snatched hearts from chests,

5. On a day that passed in the gown of night,
So the noble was not known from the commoner,

6. And the eye of the sun peers into darkness
Like the glance of an innocent virgin behind her veil,

7. So you shortened from a long lifetime with it
And lengthened from a short lifetime because of it.