They arrived at home, the land where they were born The woods are all away, around them loneliness The age of trees was older than their roots The puddle to his right, that was their little fresh brook And he remember, the fathertree Where he were born and where he felt free In his protection he ever found The symmetry of disfiguration And I, I think of you and mean: So nice was the time That time could be so long, Oh I don't know if you're alive or dead You know the children need you, And I love you And we all wait for you We know, you will, come back So much time has to pass this place Our little children, they will never see The paradise where generations lived Of the wild wolfriderfolk, Where generations lived And he remember, the fathertree Where he were born and where he felt free In his protection he ever found The symmetry of disfiguration