This place is chilling all the life out of me, and I must find another home.

It is far, far away, and you will not hear from me again until I am there.

Then I will write to you.
You know where I was born,--under a hot sun and in the midst of strange, lovely scenes that I seem still to remember.

I must visit them again: my heart always yearns for them.

And I must cross the sea to get there,--the beautiful great sea that I have always longed for and that my river has been whispering about to me ever so many years.