They arrived at home, the land

where they were born

The woods are all away,

around them loneliness

The age of trees was older

than their roots

The puddle to his right,

that was their little fresh brook

And he remember, the fathertree

Where he were born and where he felt free

In his protection he ever found

The symmetry of disfiguration

And I, I think of you and mean:

So nice was the time

That time could be so long,

Oh I don't know if you're

alive or dead

You know the children need you,

And I love you

And we all wait for you

We know, you will, come back

So much time has to pass this place

Our little children, they will never see

The paradise where generations lived

Of the wild wolfriderfolk,

Where generations lived

And he remember, the fathertree

Where he were born and where he felt free

In his protection he ever found

The symmetry of disfiguration