When the mangoes ripen in the smiling sun I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. Wearing a white sinh dress. I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. The deep forest valley will tap its toes. I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. When the frangipanis create a rustling choir. I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. And the moonshine sky a glass floor. I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. With children’s bodies rolling waves. I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. And elephant tusks of songs. I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. Ghostly bamboo houses and whistling grass. I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. Oh Laos, oh winds of sweet rice fields! I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. Oh dried tears and senseless fire! I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. Drops of sugar canes, empty hillside, gazing sunset! I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. I always said I’d dance my feet in Salavan! Wearing a white sinh dress. I’ll dance my feet in Salavan. Rice whiskey dripping from red painted mouth. I’ll dance my …