The women of his kindred rend their finery
For Butrus who sank into the grave.
The women of his kindred tear their coverings,
Because Butrus is left in America.
(Impersonating Butrus)
Don’t take me down into the ships,
My sister on the seashore is grieving.
Don’t take me down to the foreign ships,
My sister on the seashore is calling.
(The mourners)