| lyric | La tgesa era tgoda, scu en niea,
cur tg’el, bargiond, ò detg adia.
Blers onns passos! Jgls bigls èn ve tar Dia.
El turna, el turna,
Triest return! Gl’e tot schi freid!
Parfign an steiva, freid e veid!
Strousch cratschla l’oura viglia en saleid.
En ester, tranter esters, stat el cò!
Freids fardagliungs on detg: Ist no?
Scu egn tgi ò fallo cutier, el vo.
Angal la mamma, ord smiria portret,
muaint’ igls lefts less deir en pled,
cun troul’ iglida soundla igl poret. |