(485) Mora kaj niye bence achi
We live for our mission.
Dancing, to the forest we go;
Bearing timber, we come back home.
Inside the forest is a pleasure grove;
An air of joy and wind of dance are there.
We hear seven hundred critiques,
But we never lose our dignity;
We go on being happy constantly.
With flowers great is our affinity;
As much as life swings, so much is our fancy.
No fear or shame have we; love is what we feel.
With God alone we stay very close.
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When we live for the duties we've accepted, happiness pervades.
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