Somewhere in the mountains
You can hear the calling.
The crazy Iele
Are preparing a potion.
Their dancing and their spell
Draw us towards them
They pretend with their hand
Their rings sparkling.
The Iele, the thieves, the girls in blouses,
They want to be our sisters and our wives.
Somewhere in the mountains
You can hear the calling.
Many fires are burning,
The bodies are naked.
Their dancing and their spell
Draw us towards them.
Spirits gather
Whilst the moon is still up.
If the calling were to cease,
The mountains wouldn't drown the sea.
Fairytale sound, bad omen...