Don't let them build houses on high, high hills
Don't let them give their daughters to distant lands
Let them not look down upon the only one, the mother

Let it be known to the flying birds as well
I miss my mother
Both my mother and my father
I miss my village

If my mother had a sail, she would open it and come
If my father had a horse, he would ride it and come
If my siblings knew the roads, they would come

Let it be known to the flying birds as well
I miss my mother
Both my mother and my father
I miss my village