Portmanteaux packed and loaded, a new life is my call In going I am coming home, to rivers, forests and swan And all the hustle-bustle I leave behind for all As I start my life anew, as one.
In joyous solitude shall I bide, to be alone at last I see it in the forest glade, among these misty leaves The darkness and the shadows seem so very vast And sleeping under ink-black skies deceives.
And so I travel homeward, a long, long journey home Where waters lap so sweetly there lives a gentle swan Which to the forest edge and by the glade does come A gentle flutter of my heart so finally at one.