Radele ran away
oh Rade Rade-ele
in two mi
through three mountains
Lube is then followed
and he asked himself cleverly
since when have you been running Radele
Whether from grandmother or grandfather
Ili of nine brothers-in-law
or of eight corns
I’m not running, I’m not running
Neither from grandmother than grandfather
or of eight brothers-in-law
I’m running, I’m running
from the little girl
A maid sat at the gates
Kaval spoke to him
Gentle uncle with a bulla.