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The spring swallows have ended their short sojourn stay,
The mild wind sets forth on your journey’s way,
To guide your sail full speed with peaceful hand,
To that so far, so far, distant land.
So few words we can utter, yet so much to say,
Nothing can make the Father Time to stay,
With wishes as countless as the sands we stand,
We see you off to that far distant land.
With soft promises I soothe, with tears she pays
For friendship we had built since childhood days;
"May your ship endure as your friends at hand
That carries you off to that distant land."
The ship’s prow splits and parts the rippled waves,
The seagulls head off with steadfast paces;
"May your fortune be at your heart’s command
And find a new dream in that distant land!"
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