In the swinging of the branches, in the flying of the birds, and in the running of the water, Beloved,
I see Thy waving hand, bidding me good-bye.
In the cooing of the wind, in the roaring of the sea, and in the crashing of the thunder, Beloved,
I see Thee weep and I hear Thy cry.
In the promise of the dawn, in the breaking of the morn, in the smiles of the rose, Beloved,
I see Thy joy at my homecoming.