I washed in the river, I washed
The cold chilled me, it chilled
When I went to the river to wash;
I went hungry, I went
I used to cry, also she cried
Seeing my mother cry
I was singing, also she was singing
I dreamed, also she dreamed
And in my fantasy
Such things fantasised
That I forgot that she was crying
That I forgot that she was suffering
I do not go any more to the river to wash
But I continue dreaming
I no longer dream what I used to dream
If I no longer wash in the river
Why does this cold chill me
More than it used to chill me
Ah my mother, my mother
What good remembrances
And of the evil that she then knew
Of this hunger that I endured
Of the cold that chilled me
And of my fantasy
We no longer have hunger, mother
But we no longer have also
The desire to not exist
We no longer know dreaming
Now we go to deceive
The desire to die