Atam aum zalam mataro ani bilcul bariq, dista cosso bodi, Chinta focott kedna muzo vogott yetolo vochonc poltodi. Voir sokla, soglem dista bilcul callem - Kitem cortoloi: diss eileat te cadunc zave. Pun porto khuxeal zata chintun adlea tempachea kalchi kodi.
(Rough translation) I am now old and fragile, thin as a stick. I think only of when it will be time for me to go across. Everything looks black, both up and down. What can one do? One has to suffer the days that have come. But joy returns when I think of the kalchi kodi of old times.
