Where does the wind carry us? It sails us across the sea and sweeps us through the meadows.
Glide with me on sun-graced sea
The waves glide, fair and grave.
The sparrows glide, divine and inseparable?
My meadow, blessed with silver, my divine one.
The waves glide, fair and grave.
The sparrows glide, divine and inseparable?
My meadow, blessed with silver, my divine one.