Mist lets up, a flash of golden rays upon
a soon to be crimson field of grass
My comrades, sons sent to defend Duoya
O, I can hear the soft sob of mother
the sister babe suckling on her breast
neither can join the battle,
and I know in my heart I will not see them
again, my heart is for this battle
to fight hopefully 'til the Twin Sisters rise
Hear the stalk skirts flutter
from whistling wind, I see
Falin raised his horn— Mother, it is time to go
