All the past a dim blank?
Think of the time when we ran up and down in our arbor, where the green vines grew over the great ribs of the stranded whale.

Oh Yillah, little Yillah, has it all come to this?
am I forever forgotten?
Yet over the wide watery world have I sought thee: from isle to isle, from sea to sea.

And now we part not.

Aleema is gone.
My prow shall keep kissing the waves, till it kisses the beach at Oroolia.

Yillah, look up." Sunk the ghost of Aleema: Sweet Yillah was mine!.