Skar the fire son Pet the smiling one Woo the sleeping one Ró the crying one Hú-hviss my little one Ró-ró my crying one Ligg-ligg my tired one Rura sleeping one Touch a feal, you blind a must Soft the skin of the warmest rust Cause nothing blows in the faraway I go away, go away Past the hills, past the day Touch a feal, you blind a must Soft the skin of the warmest rust Cause nothing blows in the faraway I go away, go away Past the hills, past the day