I spat in the water and the children of slaughter,
who were standing behind me, looking out at the green sea,
took a hold of the east wind, bringing dust and disaster,
as they danced in their circle, growing louder in laughter.
I washed in the water of the daughters of slaughter,
running quickly before me, drinking out of the green sea.
Knowing well of the west wind, turning faster and faster,
they too danced in the circle, weeping now the disaster.