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In the mist near the mountain

The shapes of beings form in the fog

Heads are drooping slightly down at their work

Cold breeze is rippling the rice patties below

Your futile destiny is here

You work till you die

For the beast that dwells here

Rewards devotion and pride

For your village needs your labor

We are bearing the burdens of our dead

To be reborn as one with the earth

Against whom we have sinned

The spirits tolerate us

For we are shown their mercy as long as we stay here

An empire grows in the east, hungry as it is violent

If the villagers stay, they will be slaughtered and consumed

The elders have chosen

It is better to die with pride

Than to run away from torment

And dishonor those who have died

We are bearing the burdens of our dead

To be reborn as one with the earth

Against whom we have sinned

Oh, Great Spirit of the mountain

Bless us with the shade of your forest

Bring us favor as we sacrifice to thee