I will rush as a lion,
Like him that devours the virgins
Near the forests of Fubasekoa.
Mapatsa is with me—
Mapatsa, the son of Tele—
We set off singing the song of the Trot.
Ramakoala, my uncle, exclaims:
Cucutle, where shall we fight?
We will fight before the fires of Makoso.
We arrive....