Sista brevet hem

A sorrowful letter I write with his age-weary pen.
My dear has reached the end of the journey and is heading back home.
She was a rosy flower in the green spring,
But tears followed her as we left.
I remember the fruit she gave me from your apple tree outside;
A seed she carried from home.
The nurturing tree she watched over has now grown and borne fruit.
That harvest became my sorrow and her end.

Pale and silent; a whisper:
Have I come home again?
So she goes away, my love, and travels back home
A smile of happiness:
I am home again.
So she goes away, my love, and finds peace.

Our journey went over the sea; our destination was in the west.
I couldn't imagine her suffering and pain.
I thought everything would get better, time heals all wounds.
Surely she will stand there smiling one day.
I've seen her standing by the shore, gaze fixed in the distance.
How tears without longing stole all strength from her chest.
But the heart doesn't break suddenly when longing slowly wears away,
A heart bleeds slowly, fades away.