Don’t you remember when I was older,
when you would wake and come dancing with me?
Midsummer’s night we were flying together,
racing the wind and chasing the sea.
Don’t you remember when we were alone here?
Mist shrouded woodlands were calling our names.
Into the night from the early day’s twilight,
pounding our feet to the beat of the flames.
Wake, won’t you? Wake! And come to where I stand;
the song is still pulsing, alive, in my chest.
Come, come, rise up! and awaken; you know me—
run, and I’ll follow you into the west.
No need to search hard; I've already found you,
here where the nightingale’s echoing call
blends with the faraway sound of the river,
running away to the old waterfall.
Can you not hear me? Will you not answer?
Or maybe ’tis I who have done something wrong.
If I just sit here, wait awhile and listen,
couldn't you give me a taste of your song?
Wake, won’t you? Wake! And find your way back
through the mist-shadowed dreamland that blankets your minds.
Come out to me, silver birches and willows,
into the wind, leave your troubles behind.
Yet, still you stand there, waving your branches,
dreaming of days long forgotten and passed.
Search through the haze of your mind and remember—
here you will find me forever at last.