Corn-Grinding Song

O, my lovely mountain,
To’ yallanne!
O, my lovely mountain,
To’ yallanne!
To’ yallanne!
High up in the sky,
See Rain-makers seated,
Hither come the rain-clouds now,
He-ya, ha-ya, he-ya!

Behold, yonder
All will soon be abloom
Where the flowers spring
Tall shall grow the youthful corn-plants.

Lovely! See the cloud, the cloud appear!
Lovely! See the rain, the rain draw near!
Who spoke?
’Twas the little corn-ear
High on the tip of the stalk
Singing while it looked at me
Talking aloft there
"Ah, perchance the floods
Hither moving
Ah, may the floods come this way!"

Yonder, yonder the fair rainbow,
See the rainbow brightly decked and painted!
Now the swallow bringeth glad news to your corn,

Singing, "Hitherward, hitherward, hitherward, rain,
"Hither come!
"Hither come!"
Now hear the corn-plants murmur,
"We are growing, everywhere!
"Hi, yai! The world, how fair!"