Ships stop for a while and set a course,
But they return through bad weather.
In less than half a year - and I appear,
To be again away, To leave again for half a year.

They all return, except best friends,
Except most loved and faithful women.
They all return, - except those we need most.
I don’t believe in fate and myself - still less.

I want to think, that’s not so, -
That burning one’s boats will soon be out of fashion.
I certainly will come back, together with friends and dreams.
I, shall sing, of course, - in less than half a year.