A poem written in Jutean
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Hotohiva a lumamo N’a anindi, hotuvonit a teso’miohi he ehe hotuvimode netie se, hokono deo fal ilfoit’ Saihadao ilhavano he fal a no’i a noitadova a vattohi a me fal ma a vunojid’ a lumo se Amdoheot al fal idatel nu’e aso’i a ni a-n’tuuni – hee, no ji a vandovohi u foi a haada oos huvel N’a anindi, ilvuninam’ a teso’miohi he ehe vunamatede netie se, saiho noitom' to fal lumam’ Saihadao ilhavano he fal a deohi a fuedohi a dovid’-a lum’mod’-a ifi, a haado’i ov’ saanavade Asot al fal ji idatel, uuvaliti a illumid’ a nuheid’ a-m’ fal ma, id’ dooni a ji, eeol no fal dotel |
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A very literal English translation that doesn't attempt to conserve either rhythm or rhymes. "Poem about Power" Happy are the slaves who think themselves masters and nothing else they can ignore serfdom They prefer to pretend to themselves that the chains they are carrying around are signs of power Break away they will never for the realizing of a life of prison yes, this is terrifying and freedom hopelessly too large Happy are the mortals who think themselves gods and nothing else, think they powerfully control (many things) They prefer to delude themselves into ignoring the collapsing of the towers of power little by little, (which were) built on wet sand. They shall never realize this, the depth of powerlessness of their endeavor; in (all) of that time*, they were never able to (really) live *= in the end |
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