Poem

My bull is white a the silver fish in the river,

Is the shimmering crane bird on the riverbank,

Is the White fresh milk!

His roar is thunder to the Turkish cannon on the steep shore.

My bull is the dark rain cloud in a storm.

He is the summer and winter.

Half of him is dark and the storm cloud

Half of him is the light sunshine.

His back shines like the morning star.

His brow is red like the back of a hornbill.

His forehead is like a flag, calling the people from a distance.

He resembles the rainbow.

I will water him at the river,

With my spear I shall drive my enemies.

Let them water their herds at the well;

The river belongs to me and my bull.

Drink, my bull, form the river; I am here to guard you with my spear.