The islander slips into hiding 
And takes to his heels 
Out of dark Northland 
The murky house of Sara 
He whirled out of doors as snow 
Arrives as smoke in the yard 
To flee from bad deeds 

There he had to [bad word] someone else 
He must change his shape 
As an eagle he swept up 
Wanted to soar heavenward 
The sun burnt his cheeks 
The moon lit his brows