Our gloves are stiff with the frozen blood, |
Our furs with the drifted snow, |
As we come in with the seal - the seal! |
In from the edge of the floe. |
|
Au jana! Aua! Oha! Haq! |
And the yelping dog-teams go; |
And the long whips crack, and the men come back, |
Back from the edge of the floe! |
|
We tracked our seal to his secret place, |
We heard him scratch below, |
We made our mark, and we watched beside, |
Out on the edge of the floe. |
|
We raised our lance when he rose to breathe, |
We drove it downward - so! |
And we played him thus, and we killed him thus, |
Out on the edge of the floe. |
|
Our gloves are glued with the frozen blood, |
Our eyes with the drifting snow; |
But we come back to our wives again, |
Back from the edge of the floe! |
|
|
And the loaded dog-teams go; |
And the wives can hear their men come back, |
|