The others are tall and slender
Black-browed and pretty
I am tiny
Crook-necked and small
Hidden under the bench
Hidden under the bench
Place under the bed
Place under the bed
My mother should have
Given birth to a prettier child
Cared for fairer one
Grown a prettier one
She collected me from embers
Gave birth from charcoal
To be abandoned by the good
And placed with the bad
Many criticise my shape
Many look at my face
Many lament my figure
Speak of my scrawny figure
Grief has shaped me
Crying has beautified my face
Worry has moulded my figure
Sorrow has placed my eyes
One day this figure
And my other parts
Will receive great grooms
High-ranking suitors will come
If no one comes
If no great men propose
The grooms of death will come
Suitors of the Underworld
They will not criticise my shape
They will not criticise my shape
They will not look at my face
They will not look at my face
If no one comes
If no great ones propose
The grooms of death will come
Suitors of the Underworld