The wrist tying is coming
In the Beginning, a long long time ago,
A tree was planted tilled and tilled, flowing with water
The old man is gone, Lah Ku flower blooms
At the end of the road everything is gone
Many trees and many branches, it is not the same country
Many new things appear, black and red
In the foreign lands, by the riverside in the bush
We sit down together, I hold your hand
I hold it tight, friendly and tempted
We must part to foreign lands
The leaves flow with the river
Flowing and floating together
Marked with Bamboo rope
So far I cannot measure
