The wind is blowing,
The rivers are flowing,
O why must I choose
To leave this land?

I want to stay,
To watch it’s blooming,
I want to watch
This land grow.

But our days are gone,
Our years have failed,
It is time for Mortal Men
To take our place.

I now must sail,
To the Ancient West,
Or stay here and meet
My kind’s fate.

To be forgotten,
To waste away,
To become a thing
Of hills and caves.

The wind is blowing,
The rivers are flowing,
I now am choosing
To leave this land.

I cannot stay,
I cannot linger,
My time is over
And I now must go.

Will they remember us,
When we’re gone?
Will we stay,
In the hearts of the young?

I now say good-bye,
Sweet land of my birth.
I now say farewell,
To the forests and birds.