Raging winds smote the face,
When come was he to that place.
Dust of mountains, fiery plains,
Greenest of plants merciless maims.
Lift thy eyes up from that place,
Unto the brightened shining face.
Study that which studied there,
And in our wisdom thou shalt share.
The laws which ne’er before had seen,
Were now revealed to eyes put keen.
New wisdom put in garden to mind,
For the felling feel not to thee find.
Sarbatu, Sarbatu, jewel of mine,
To that place come all ‘tis thine.
The laughing face unto sorrow’s eye,
Guard that which give of wisdom mine.
Therefore, which is to grow to sky,
Come unto places on mountain high.
Cry out then doth the rye;
The wisdom theirs not be with fie!