I will pick the smooth yarrow that my figure may be more elegant, that my lips may be warmer, that my voice may be more cheerful; may my voice be like a sunbeam, may my lips be like the juice of the strawberries.
May I be an island in the sea, may I be a hill on the land, may I be a star when the moon wanes, may I be a staff to the weak one; I shall wound every man, no man shall wound me.
Fishful the sea! Fruitful the land! A fountain of fish! Fish under wave Like a torrent of birds, a crowded sea!
A white hail of countless salmon, of broad-mouthed whales! A harbour spell - A fountain of fish, a fishful sea!
A magic cloud I put on thee from dog from cat from cow from horse from man from maiden and from little child till I again return