One fine day we'll see a thread of smoke rising...
...out on the horizon, and then the ship will appear
The white ship will sail into port
It will fire its cannon Can you see? He's back
I don't go down to meet him
I stand on the brow of the hill, and wait
And the long wait means nothing
Out of the bustling town...
...comes a man, a tiny dot, heading for the hill
Who can it be?
And when he arrives, what will he say?
He'll call 'Butterfly!' from afar
I'll say nothing, but stay hidden
Partly to tease, and partly...
...so as not to die when we first meet again.
He'll be a little overcome, and call, 'Little wife, verbena blossom!'
The names he used to call to me when he was here
This will all come true, I promise you
Keep your fear to yourself. With a faith that can't be shaken...
...I'm waiting for him.