اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
The rise and the fall upon small mountain
Was fair not for all in need
And i with my life has gone
Away from this land of gold
Formed from the seed aligned for all that fortune brings
And all that certain men lay upon it when anger is seen
And it reigns like the others
Giving all what it can
While the days count for nothing
Nothing that one undestands
Upon that road I has struggled to find
A way of life that was common for all
And all that runs on the mountain was mine
A way of life that will surely be gone
Poor lands will grow
Among the weeds among the roads
And all are anxious for song and dance
That will sometimes get old
