Listen cousins, and daughters and sons,
This is the song of the exiled ones.
Run away to the mountain, go hide in the cave,
The Others are coming to kill and enslave.
Run away to the river, go hide on the hill,
The Others are coming to pillage and kill.
Like the cat who climbs high when the dog bays below her,
Be prudent and hide till your raw wounds heal over,
And when you have hidden a long time away
You may come down to live on some fairer day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem