(Pólef révâ úmázhën, shúteln vlór - To hear this, click here)
Rïtsô vá zhë dwensìlá mónes Dlúná ddá festá, dhyáns-gheszrë dleshemsá ráyvázályën zhë pelánthán. Shthón nògzô? Shthón ìlô? Siznâç ás síznânÿ qedáme ráyvô ddá ñózhô. Ve ìlô zhë dwensìlësán Ens ñe xólâ yáshën mónesán sá dlúná? Áv ve ávô zhë kahínó pel dhëyá kólf káyár te ánzhyónyá ddá lhásvónyá áyexen tsú delzyû Mónesár, te sigánô zhë Dwensìlán Mónesán ñets delzyû dwensìlá? He ás kálsánÿ blénÿ ñózhô ddá ráyvô tázhë zárre ttóxónev. Sávlùlÿ ve yúdráshô zhë bóyenárán Te gevónyá pel dhyáns-feká? Ve ghelô ddá líëcô ens zhë kelyenóxná? Rïtsánô gó delvenyë síznâyá ddá gává Ddá ttòsnë pel dhëyá ten vreleksályá Yádzelyánô kámán. |
Stands the Lonely Mountain high and strong, its face of rock watching the surroundings. What is it thinking? What is it feeling? From year to year quietly it watches and waits. Does it feel loneliness Because of not having other mountains so high? Or else are the hills around it as children which learn and hope someday also to be Mountains, which will mean the Lonely Mountain no more will be lonely? But until such a day it waits and watches, that great guardian. I wonder whether it judges the people who dwell around its foot? Whether it sees and laughs because of the deeds? It will stand for a thousand years and beyond And all around it which we build Will return to dirt. |