They have taken the Ezo Bride from my hands
I couldn't wrapped her waist
Who can take the tear flood from my eyes back?
Mountains, great mountains
What are those troubles of mine
Show me a way out
My beloved, mountains
Ezo Bride, the deer of that Antep*
Their white hands are very hennaed, oh, hennead
The hunter shot its heart, an injure on it
Mountains, great mountains
What are those troubles of mine
Show me a way out
My beloved, mountains