1. No prey except by bowstring
A yellow braided bowstring

2. If the archer touches it, it hums
With a weeping, round-eyed mother

3. The work of a capable, steadfast rain
It rained on her, so she became refined

4. Then the likes of polished stones came
They did not differ in forms

5. Neither small nor big
Resembling clay and rock

6. They reside in bed-like abodes
Then they fly off like embers

7. To hearts and throats
When they marched at dawn

8. And the night of dark hills
Takes some land and neglects some

9. And morning dawned bright
Rank upon rank and troop upon troop came

10. With white, apple-shaped cheeks
Seeking what fate had decreed

11. A new meadow and river
And they ask to look

12. To see what news there is
So a skilled archer stood up

13. And strung a bow and pulled
When he shot the ranks, they scattered

14. He bent a stick he had notched
Between one plummeting down

15. And another crying danger
And another with a broken wing

16. And he relaxed, pleased with his gain
And a shooting star touched him

17. And they said, upon its passing
And the shooting continued

18. This is not a mortal's shooting
The earth's pebbles became embers