If we were away on an island and
Each Today was the same as its Morrow,
Then all the world, with its Time’s flowing sands
Holding still, would never bring me sorrow.

With your hand in my hand, my heart in yours;
Alltime would pass in the space of a dream.
And all of those countless beautiful hours,
As swift as a butterfly’s flight would seem.

But not to your soul, with autumnal wings,
whose wanderlust grows and rockets above
To travel beyond the truth of all things.
No lover can dare encage you with love.

Thus I watch you soar like a wand’ring star,
Evermore free; you’re the sky in my heart.